A Brewing Storm
by Ieatvampiresforbreakfast
Summary: A storm is brewing in Westeros, in the center of the intrigue and danger is Velena Baratheon, the King's sister. The death of Jon Arryn has set in motion a chain of events that threaten to destroy her and the family she fought to protect. She may be the King's sister but safety is not guaranteed and to save those she loves she may have to become the very thing she hates.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the names, characters, plot or places in this story. They all belong to GRRM and HBO, except for the few that I created. I don't make any money from writing and publishing this.

A/N: This story is a mix between the TV show and book. Thanks in advance for reading, please review!

* * *

Prologue:

My eldest brother has always called me his little doe. My next oldest brother calls me by my name, my full, unabbreviated name. My little brother calls me Ena. I am Velena Baratheon, first of my name, sister to a king and aunt to a prince, still not a wife to a lord, but that, I have to say, is a great relief. It is not for my brother's lack of trying, since he became King, Robert has attempted to marry me to almost every bachelor in Westeros, and even a few in the free cities, none of them have got very far and I am only two-and-twenty. There is no need to hurry.

Of my brothers I like Renly best, it is probably my motherly instincts. Since our parents died that fateful night it was always me that looked after Renly. Robert was too busy training with his hammer and then plotting against the Mad king, Aerys Targaryen. Stannis never had room for weakness of any sort, much less a crying boy, wanting to know why his mother and father weren't coming back. So, it was me that Renly came to for comfort when the night brought dreams of pale faces and hands reaching out of the water, gasping for air.

This never changed.

Robert went from strength to strength and defeated the Mad King, then as time went on his penchant for food and wine and whores grew to a sickness. Stannis remained as stiff and unforgiving as iron and Renly grew to manhood and became a brilliant warrior, a warrior, but still a sweet summer boy, untouched by Winter's chill.

* * *

The bells have been ringing out all day since Lord Arryn of the Vale, Warden of the East, Hand of the King passed into the care of the Silent Sisters. In life Jon Arryn had many titles, but to us Baratheon siblings he was our father in all but name. Especially for Renly and I, who never really knew our parents very well, he was the one we modelled ourselves after.

The sun is now descending fast on the narrow sea, the dark water being stained a crimson red. As the bells toll again I see seven black shapes dart across the rose tinted sky, I follow their flight until they begin to break apart. There are only seven ravens because Lady Arryn is still in the capital. Two go south to Storm's End and Dorne, three begin to turn West evidently bound for Highgarden, Riverrun and Casterly rock. A single raven goes East to inform Stanis, who recently left the capital for Dragonstone. The last raven goes Northward, to the Starks where this news will be worst received, just like Robert, Ned looked up to Lord Arryn. I fix my eyes on the Northbound raven, I know that it carries news of more importance than just the death of the Hand: in a matter of days the King and much of his court will begin the long journey up the Kingsroad to Winterfell. It is my brother's wish to pin that accursed badge on Lord Stark. _Why him? _I ask the Gods. Eddard Stark is too good, too honour-bound for a place like King's Landing. This city claimed the last Hand and I worry that he will be bound to the same fate.

A cool breeze blows in off the sea, causing goosebumps to run up my arm, I don't dislike the feeling, in fact I rejoice in it, it reminds me of the windswept landscapes and swirling storms of my homeland. I have rooms in the Red Keep, very nice large rooms, my brother spared no expense either with the decoration or furnishings. No matter how much he spends on Myrish carpets, costly silks for curtains or brightly coloured tapestries King's Landing will never be my home. I was raised to be bold, strong and unrelenting just like the land of my birth, not cunning and calculative like the people here. To be completely frank, I hate the capital, it is a den of snakes and lions with spiders attentively listening and mockingbirds twisting the truth before I've even finished saying it.

My handmaiden, Bettanie, also from Storm's End, joins me at the balcony, I am thinking but I don't mind her presence. Bettanie is the same age as me with dirty blonde hair and an easy smile. She loops an arm around my back to comfort me, she knows how hard this week has been. I stare out to sea, on the edge of the horizon I can see a storm brewing, by morning I anticipate that it will be striking the cliffs of the Stormlands.

"All storms pass, Lady Velena." she soothes. I nod, she is right. This matter with the death of Jon Arryn will one day be done and I will recover, but in the mean time we must hold strong and stick together. I am made to outlast this, the blood of the Storm Kings flows in my veins, but I can smell it in the air and feel it in my bones; this will be a long and brutal storm.

* * *

I am woken early by Bettanie drawing open the curtains to reveal another bright Crownlands day. The weather does not improve my mood at all, I want to stay in bed and hibernate until everything blows over, _Robert is King, you'll always be waiting._ I tell myself.

"What's on the agenda today?" I ask as I roll onto my back and shield my eyes from the sharp sun rays.

"Packing and a dinner with the royal family." calls Bettanie from the bathroom where she and three other servants are drawing me a bath, two of the other women are from King's Landing but the other one, Larra is from the Riverlands I think.

"I'd rather face each of the seven Hells than seven courses with _that lot_." I sigh into a pillow. Eventually I summon the strength to crawl out of bed, I stumble over to the side table by a bookshelf and just finish pouring out some wine when Bettanie snatches it off me. I let out a dejected whimper and try to grab it back.

"No!" she reprimands. "I'm not having you perpetually drunk and with a beer belly like your brother." My handmaiden is the only person that I know who will openly ridicule people like the King. I groan and let her lead me over to the bath. I take off my sleeping gown leaving only my linen night shirt. The other woman sprinkles some lavender bath salts into the steaming water. I sit down in the tub, letting the warmth sink into my skin.

"We are taking your wolfhound, sword and bow, and three of your winter cloaks, ten underskirts, ten wool dresses, five silk, five cotton. Four sets of furs. Two pairs of leather boots, five slippers, all jewellery and one headdress-"

"No." I cut into Bettanie's list. "I'm not going to wear one of those ugly things."

"Fine, no headdress. You wish to bring your leather leggings, surcoat, and tunic?"

"Yes." I reply, noting how she doesn't even raise an eyebrow any more.

"Your boiled leather armour is also coming, is it not?" she adds, ticking off her list when I nod.

I am no average lady, packing only dresses and trinkets, I believe that most of it is due to having three brothers and no woman who bothered to reprimand me for my unladylike behaviour. To a degree I think Robert actually encouraged me to get dirty and run around with stick swords, battling Renly for Storm's End. I'm packing the armour because it is very likely that there will be a fair few hunts while we stay in the North and the other castles on the way there and back.

I use a soft sponge to scrub off the sweat and dirt that accumulate when you live in a constantly hot and dirty city and allow Larra to comb through my long black hair and gently wash it with soap and a cloth.

The day passes slowly as me and my ladies carefully fold my clothes and stack them into my trunk. Over the course of the day my room becomes emptier and emptier as the trunks get packed. All too soon it is time for the dinner with my family. Of the dresses that I haven't packed I pick a teal coloured one with gold thread embroidery of antlers around the collar. The sleeves are close fitting up to the elbow where they fall away to reveal my bare arm, at that point they have bell sleeves that are lined with a more expensive brocade, the brocade is also visible in the layered skirt that is open at the front. It is high waisted in contrast to the more fashionable low waisted dresses of King's Landing. It once belonged to my mother. My hair is twisted artfully into a bun by one of the King's Landing girls. It is a simple look but the one I prefer to the ugly exuberance of the other women. Just as Larra has finished dabbing some perfumed oil around my neck I hear a knock at the door.

"Sister, it's time for dinner." calls Renly from behind the door.

"Yes, I'm coming." I call back. I can tell from the look in Larra's eyes she wants to add some red to my lips and powder my face but I push her away and head for the door. Renly is impeccably dressed as usual, in his green that matches his eyes, I have found that lots of people dress to match their eyes, it is something that I rarely do. It would draw too much attention to the ugly discrepancy in the colouring of my eyes, due to that I hardly ever wear bright blue or lilac.

"Was packing enjoyable?" mocks my younger brother as we begin to walk down the corridor to the royal apartments, in reply I raise my hand to slap him over the head, he ducks and I frown. "I know you don't want to spend more time with them than you have to, but Robert needs someone he can rely on, I'd go but-"

"You have your duties as Master of Laws, I know." I say still bemoaning how lonely this trip will be.

"Robert is surrounded by two faced courtiers, liars and people who will do anything to gain power, money or esteem, he needs you to add some Baratheon frankness." I grunt in agreement causing Renly to laugh quietly.

"Smile, Ena. You are too serious, you've been smiling about as much as Stannis recently." Renly mutters, turning my face to his.

"There is nothing _to_ smile about." I say in a completely bland tone.

"Jon was like a father to me too."

"And now he's dead as well just like our real father and mother." _Maybe I should stop caring; that's what seems to kill people, after all._ I continue in my mind. We lapse into silence again until all I can hear is our footsteps on the red rock floor. We follow the well trodden corridors until they open up to the royal apartments. Two members of the Kings Guard, Jaime Lannister and Ser Barristan open the large wooden doors.

Inside the royal family has started without us, I can tell from Cersei's expression that she caused this show of dishonour to us. There is a chair at one end for Robert, who we all know will not be here, Cersei sits on the other, Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella sit opposite where three chairs are laid out for Renly and I, the last chair being for Tyrion, the Queen's brother. I do not start eating when we have said the friendly introductions and taken our places at the table, Renly reaches for some roast chicken but I slap away his hand.

"Wait until Lord Tyrion arrives." I hiss almost under my breath.

"Oh, don't worry about waiting for him. He is only the Imp after all." I turn and look Joffrey straight in the face with narrowed eyes. _How dare he insult his own uncle!_

"He is your kin." I reply, my voice like the crack of a whip.

"Ah, here comes the little beast." mutters the Queen. As another pair of footsteps is heard drawing nearer. Tyrion's seat is next to mine and has more rungs so that he can climb to the seat more easily.

"Good evening Lord Tyrion." I greet him fondly, he is the only Lannister that I actually like.

"Lady Velena, beautiful as ever." _Liar._ "Myrcella, Tommen best niece and nephew I could wish for, Lord Renly, Cersei, Joffrey." He nods to me and Renly, smiles at Myrcella and Tommen but to Cersei and Joffrey he gives only a dark stare. The meal passes, as all the others have, in near silence with a few awkward conversations, I eat barely anything and wait until I can go back to my wine and my bed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: To make this idea work I have fiddled with the ages so the Stark kids are book age plus three as a rule.

* * *

It is now the morning of our departure from King's Landing, I'm wearing a thin dress that is particularly wide in the skirts to allow me to ride more easily. Down in the stables I am readying my grey horse, Storm Chaser, my pet dog named Wolfie is also by my side. I brush down the horse's coat and lay a quilted blanket on its back. On top of this I place my black saddle and strap it on securely, I adjust the stirrups so that I can sit comfortably in the saddle and lead it out into the courtyard, Wolfie follows me out. My clothes and other possessions have already been loaded onto a wagon. I see no other Ladies on horseback, I suppose that the road is too harsh for them.

In the crowd of onlookers I see a familiar face, Renly. He darts towards me for goodbyes.

"I hope that the road isn't too dull and boring."

"The road won't be dull or boring, the courtiers will." I say, Renly frowns and pulls me into a hug.

"Try to be happy Ena." he whispers into my hair.

"I can't. I just can't." I try to hold back tears. "If I'm happy then I'll end up losing it again."

"Everything is going to turn out fine, you'll be back with me soon." I blink a few times to clear my eyes and pull away from Renly.

"I'm supposed to look after you, little brother." Renly looks down at his feet and scratches Wolfie behind the ears.

"We look after each other." I look around and see the Queen's cat like eyes trained on us and a cruel smirk perched on her lips. I turn back to Renly and muster up a small smile.

"Keep well, Renly." I lay my hand on his shoulder and he mirrors me, we used to do this when we were children and pretending to swear an oath of great importance, now it signifies our bond as brother and sister.

"Same to you, sister" I step up the mounting block and push one foot into the stirrup, I swing my leg over and relax into the saddle. With the ringing of trumpets and some cheering and clapping from the crowds of courtiers staying in King's Landing the long procession of mounted guards, wagons, carriages and everyone else begins the long journey North.

* * *

With every new day the air gets cooler and my heart gets lighter. My worries seem to have been left behind at King's Landing. We leave the Crownlands quick enough and pass through the Riverlands staying at many different inns and houses throughout the journey. I love riding but by the time we pass the neck I am sick of the lonely road, every few hours Wolfie takes a break from walking next to me and sits with my chests on the back of a wagon.

Eventually the mist clears enough so that I can see Winterfell, just an outline really. I can make out squat towers all within an encompassing wall, it is a good sight. this will be our home for a few weeks maybe or at least until Ned Stark accepts the position of Hand of the King. '_The King eats and the Hand takes the Shit.' Poor Ned. _I contemplate quietly for although we can see our destination it will be a long time before we really reach it. At least the land here is only rising in soft hills and not completely rock-strewn like the Stormlands. I urge Storm Chaser a little faster in order to catch up with my brother, so that we may enter Winterfell together. The last time I saw Lord Stark it was during the Greyjoy Rebellion, I humourlessly wonder if he has grown fat like Robert in the nine years since. I try to neaten up my appearance, smoothing back my hair that escaped it's braid long ago and tugging the skirt down that has ridden up due to the constant movement.

There is an extremely loud clattering sound as dozens of hooves beat upon the cobbled courtyard of the castle. Most of Winterfell's inhabitants are all stood to greet us, at the front of the organised crowd are Eddard and Catelyn Stark with their five children. Ned is how I think the Warden of the North should look, serious and stony but surrounded by a loving family.

Joffrey is the first royal into the courtyard, followed as usual by the Hound, after them comes three members of the Kingsguard then the massive carriage of the Queen's, then me and my brother and the rest of the Kingsguard. I notice that the taller red haired daughter is eyeing my arse of a nephew, _stupid girl_. She looks like the kind of girl who believes in fairy tales and true love, when she looks at Joffrey she sees a gallant prince, everyone else sees a Lannister coward. All the Northerners kneel as Robert rides nearer. There was once a time when he could easily dismount from his horse but those days are long gone so instead my brother uses a box to step down off his horse, _poor thing_, I think, _I bet it's back is damn near broken. _The King walks straight up to his old friend who rises along with his people.

"Your grace." There is a long pause as Robert surveys his friend's face.

"You've got fat." I just manage to suppress a snigger. The Starks look utterly taken aback until Robert suddenly bursts out laughing and hugs Lord Stark like a brother.

"Cat!" he does the same to Catelyn, who isn't expecting it at all.

"Your grace." she bemusedly mumbles from inside his embrace.

"Nine years, why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?" he roars after he has turned back to Eddard.

"Guarding the North for you, your grace. Winterfell is yours." the Queen now steps down from her massive carriage with a look of boredom and an obviously fake smile. Cersei Lannister clearly believes she is above courtesy and can disrespect anyone she pleases. In order to sustain some affection between these two families I dismount from Storm Chaser and wait for my brother to finish meeting all of the Stark children, the Queen then saunters up to Lord Stark and makes him kiss her hand. The Starks are perfectly gracious, well maybe not the youngest girl who is persistently asking about where "the Imp" is.

"Take me to your crypt, I wish to pay my respects." Ever since my brother met Lyanna Stark he has been obsessed by her, I don't think it is a healthy type of love but it certainly lasted longer than his love for Cersei.

"We've been riding for a month, my love, surely the dead can wait." the Queen says, her tone suggesting that she knows what will happen anyway. The King disregards this and only turns for a moment. He calls his friend over to him and continues walking. Cersei walks back over to her brother and children. I see that this is my time and briskly walk over to Catelyn as Eddard has left for the crypts.

"My Lady." she says as she bobs down into a small curtsey.

"Lady Stark" I reply, inclining my head; we are both noble ladies of around equal standing. "You have a wonderful family." My stomach twists but I suppress it and keep up my appearance of serene happiness.

"Thank you, you have grown a lot since I last saw you Lady Baratheon."

"Please, Velena will do."

"In that case you must call me Catelyn." I nod in reply and bend down to look at her son.

"He takes after you," I say, looking up at Catelyn, her Tully features are echoed in her youngest son. "What is your name?"

"Rickon." he says shyly. I smile and walk to Robb, he was eleven when I saw him briefly during the Greyjoy rebellion. He has red-brown hair and a strong jaw with much broader shoulders than the had when I saw him last.

"Robb." I say curtly, wondering if he remembers me at all.

"Velena," he replies. "It's been a long time."

"Indeed, I barely recognised you." We shake hands and I continue to the girl.

"You are Sansa, are you not?"

"Yes, my lady." she says looking at her shoes, she looks very similar to Catelyn, but with lighter hair, and the same fine features as her mother, there is not much Stark visible, she stands out among her siblings as the only one not wearing Stark colours.

"and this is your sister-"

"Arya." the other girl cuts in. Where her sister is obviously Tully she is clearly Stark, with brown hair and blunt but not unflattering features.

"Yes, Arya." I confirm

At the end of the line is another boy.

"I'm Bran." he says simply.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Bran."

* * *

The Starks are the opposite of the land they inhabit, they are warm and friendly. My introductions are done so I say goodbye and lead my horse to a Stark pageboy and ask for directions to the stables. Storm Chaser has really proven his endurance on this journey. A stable boy offers to brush him down and clean his hooves but I decline. It is the least I can do to look after my horse who has carried me this far. I brush down his grey coat with a wet brush to remove the dirt and sweat from the journey and then again with a dry brush so that he doesn't get too cold. I carefully lift up one hoof at a time and scrape out the mud and gravel. My legs are tired so I wobble slightly as I complete this task, a few "damn"s and "Seven Hells" may have escaped me.

"My Lady, you know we have stable boys for that, don't you?" asks a voice from the stable door. It makes me jump a little as I wasn't paying attention to the outside world. I look up and see Robb Stark peering in.

"Yes I do, but I like to look after my horse." I reply. He steps inside and strokes Storm Chaser's nose. I place the horse's last hoof back on the floor and walk over to Robb.

"He is a fine horse." says Robb as I pat Storm Chaser's neck.

"The King bought him for me when I was fifteen." I explain.

"What's his name?" he asks whilst looking down at me with his piercing Tully eyes.

"Storm Chaser. A good Baratheon name, don't you think?" He smiles and there is a pause for a few moments and then a wide, almost insane grin breaks over my face.

"Velena, are you sure that you're well?" I clamp a hand over my mouth to stop a laugh.

"Yes," I close my eyes to calm myself. "I merely did not expect that you would be looking down at me. Gods, you were a little wretch once...and now..." The definitely not wretch-like Stark raises his eyebrows.

* * *

"My mother has requested your presence in the Great Hall." Robb starts again, a more formal tone in his voice. It feels like he is trying to distance himself from the boy that he was.

"Oh, why?" I wonder, hopefully something hasn't already gone wrong.

"I honestly have no idea." I stroke Storm Chaser again and then walk out of the stables. Waiting outside is Robb's dog, it has wolfish features but I reason that it must be a dog because I doubt that a wolf would make a good pet.

"This is Grey Wind, my direwolf." he says proudly, and kneels down to scratch it behind the ear.

"_Your _direwolf?" I say incredulously.

"Yes, it's entirely tame." he assures me. I bend down and let it smell my hand, it seems to like me as it licks me and allows me to stroke the back of it's head. I walk over to a small bowl of water that a stable boy left for me and use the block of soap next to it to scrub my hands clean. We then begin the walk to the Great Hall of Winterfell with Grey Wind running along beside us.


	3. Chapter 3

When we arrive it is revealed to me that all Catelyn wants to do is show me to my room. I seem to be the last guest to be given a room due to my "disappearance" (as she puts it) most people came straight up to the main castle. My room is on the third floor and overlooks the keep. It is by no means small but is not as big as my King's Landing abode.

I was expecting there to be lots of fires around Winterfell to battle the coldness seeping in through windows and under doors, but in fact I do not see a single one. The hot springs that the castle is built over take care of the cold.

"Probably not the grandeur you are used to, Velena." Catelyn says as she opens the heavy wooden door.

"It's perfect Catelyn, thank you." I look out of the window down into the courtyard of servants, rushing to be ready for the feast. "Not to be rude but I expect you are incredibly busy, I don't want to take up too much of your time." I say, conscious of the feast drawing nearer.

"Oh, don't worry my dear, I'll see you at the feast then." she smiles warmly at me and departs leaving me to unpack and change into my dress for this evening. Bettanie arrives soon after and instructs the servants on where to put the clothes chests.

"Bettanie, where is my dog?" I ask, wanting to know where Wolfie has got to.

"She is down by the stables, I think she has a stall of her own."

"Good." I stand up and begin to take the silk dresses out of my first chest, none of them are really suitable for a feast attended by royalty. Finally I find what I have been looking for: A long extremely dark blue silk dress, it is cut off diagonally at the shoulder making a point that accentuates my shoulders, the neck line is a v shape that continues the angular theme of the dress. The really beautiful part of it is the bodice. It is embroidered with many different colours, all moody and stormy, and is a perfect representation of the swirling seas of my home, this wave pattern continues to the skirt but gradually fades away. I spend the afternoon unpacking and getting ready for the feast.

* * *

As it begins to get dark outside the window I am almost done getting ready, all I have left to do is decide which jewellery to wear. I choose a long silver chain that I wrap around my neck three times. I slide on a silver ring in the shape of antlers and put in sapphire drop earrings. My hair at the front is divided into many braids that all combine into a thicker braid at the back of my head but the rest is left to fall down my shoulders in soft waves. This time I let Lalis use some beeswax and rose oil balm for my lips that has been reddened with essence of some flower and dust my eyelids with a gold-coloured powder. I have to admit that I do feel pretty with my slightly sun-kissed skin and my eyes, even if they are unusual. I used to hate my eye colours, I thought it made me strange until I met a page in Stanis' service who also had two different coloured eyes, one was the most beautiful blue you could imagine, like the sky on a perfect summer day, the other was brown and rich like polished mahogany wood. A knock at the door jolts me from my memories and Larra quickly opens the door. It's a man in the Stark's livery with a clean shaven face but long dark hair.

"Good evening Lady Baratheon. Are you ready for the feast?" He asks in a clearly Northern accent.

"Yes, thank you" I reply and head down to the feast. The jolly music goes from muffled to loud as we get closer to the hall. I make some small talk and learn that he is Jory Cassel and is the nephew of the castellan of Winterfell. We reach the Hall quite quickly and I am a little shocked to see how different the hall looks when it is full of laughter and candlelight. I am shown to a seat on the second row of tables at the top end of the hall, a place reserved for the honoured guests and families of the Lord. Near to me are the oldest three Stark children and their ward Theon Greyjoy. Strangely I don't see Eddard's bastard son. On the other end of the table sits Sansa and a girl of a similar age, next to them is Theon then Robb and Arya and finally me. The top table consists of Lord and Lady Stark, the King, the Queen and Joffrey. The two tables at right angles to these are filled with Stark and Lannister guards and some Stark bannermen. I am the last person to arrive except for Tyrion but it is very obvious that he will be arriving late. As a mark of respect to the youngest Lannister sibling Lord Stark waits before standing to give the opening speech.

"My King and Queen, I hope that you will enjoy this feast. It is a great honor to entertain your royal-" he begins.

"Damn it Ned! Get on with it!" shouts my brother, already pink in the face from beer or wine.

"Yes, my King." he finishes raising his goblet in a toast and sits down again. Immediately servants burst out of the doors and put the main dishes on the tables, the smaller ones have already been laid out such as the cold hams, the bread, pies, cheeses and vegetables. On the top table a large goose is set down, the cooks have kept the skin and feathers of the bird and they are used to copy the real thing, Robert greedily tears into the imitation to uncover the pie beneath. the sound of ripping flesh and feathers is almost sickening so instead I turn back to my table and find a rack of lamb, seasoned with some expensive spices from who knows where. I cut the end one off and quickly start to eat. The cooks in Winterfell know how to season meat. It is packed full of flavours, each one complementing the meat. I hear a disgruntled sigh as I hastily shove more into my mouth. I stop and turn around.

"Good evening Arya." I say, tentatively looking at the girl who is currently glaring down at her food.

"Sansa told me that I was very rude earlier, My Lady, sorry." she says after shooting her sister a dirty look.

"You weren't rude, Arya. Just not particularly polite." I correct, and wash down the lamb with some wine. "Do you want to know a secret?" Arya nods. "People who are always polite are just people trying to cover up how boring they are." the girl looks up at me and smiles.

"My sister is very boring. She likes sewing and talking about Prince Joffrey and telling me that a Lady does this and that…" She trails off.

"I'm a lady but I hardly ever sew and I only talk about Joffrey when I think about what a bad king he will be." I reply. "Just because most ladies are like that it doesn't mean that all of us are. Have you ever met Brienne of Tarth?"

"No" she answers, clearly racking her brain.

"She's a lady, and one of the best fighters in the Seven Kingdoms." Arya beams at this and then starts tucking in to the pile of food she has loaded onto her plate. I turn back to the table and some batter puddings catch my eye, they are made with milk, egg, butter and flour and are a cup kind of shape. I grab a couple and tear one apart, this time I nibble slowly, not wanting to end up with indigestion.

"Do you know how to fight?" Arya asks slowly as if she had been deeply thinking.

"Which type do you mean?" I return with another question, wondering whether I should tell her, I shrug my shoulders realizing that I've probably already encouraged her by mentioning Brienne of Tarth.

"With a sword, or a bow."

"Both, though I have never been in more than a sparring match with a sword or aiming at a target with my bow." She still looks very exited.

"Who taught you?" Arya continues the barrage of questions.

"I was taught alongside my brother, Renly, by our Master at Arms in Storm's End." I continue, I don't really mind her questions and it is nice to be sitting with someone who cares about my opinion. "Anyway, why does Arya Stark, Lady of the North, want to know about fighting?" I ask, trying to make the conversation a little less one sided.

"Oh, it's just fun. I want to be a warrior lady like Visenya or Rhaenys or Nymeria!" she becomes even more animated. "I named my direwolf Nymeria."

"Yes, Robb told me that you all have adopted a direwolf each, its surprising that you found them South of the Wall." I muse, wondering how it got there.

"I suppose."

"The mother was dead, how did she die?" I wonder aloud.

"Jon said something about an antler." Arya replies. She must think that this was just a coincidence, I however have a more pessimistic view, maybe I'm just being silly but this definitely is not a good sign. It is hard to be scared however, in a brightly lit hall full of laughter so for now I try to forget this omen and concentrate on the merriment around me.

Robert has already abandoned his wife in favour of sitting at the lower tables and shouting drunkenly at people, _how kingly of him. _I turn my gaze on Cersei, she is clearly not enjoying this slight against her as when I look back at my brother again I see that he has wrapped his arms around a rather fat woman who is currently eating his face off. I sigh, Jon Arryn tried, but definitely failed to change my brother's behavior. A few moments later I see a man enter, he is dressed completely in black, a man of the Night's Watch, he bears a striking resemblance to Ned, he has the same prominent brow and nose although has much darker hair. I point him out to Arya and she asks Robb. He confirms that it is her uncle and walks off to say hello.

Over the course of the evening Tyrion arrives, wine-skin in hand, the Queen talks to her possible daughter in law and Robert's face gets redder and redder with every cup of wine he consumes. I have been full for a while now, and the novelty of the crowded hall is wearing off so I decide to say goodnight to Catelyn and the Queen and maybe walk down to the stables to make sure Wolfie is all right. Catelyn is completely understanding and sends a page with me. He takes a lamp and leads me out of the hall. As we draw nearer I hear my dog scraping it's claws against the door. I quicken my pace and the page, Aybe, does too in order to light my way.

"Down, Wolfie." I command and with a little whimper she complies. I slide the latch across and kneel down to stroke her and scratch her on the belly. Her big brown eyes stare up at me and her tail swishes around. With a smile I produce a thick piece of back bacon. She snaps her teeth at me in a playful manner and I lead her out of the stall. With a laugh I throw the bacon up into the night but Wolfie, the clever dog she is, jumps and snatches it out of the air. With a chomping sound my offering is gone and Wolfie nuzzles my torso. She is full grown now and her shoulder comes up to my elbow. I ruffle her shaggy fur and decide that my room is big enough for the both of us. We walk back to the hall and Aybe gives me the lamp and returns to the hall. Just as he is leaving two more figures emerge from the hall. Both of the silhouettes are laughing one much higher pitched, the other a more husky sound. I hold the lantern up and the flickering light reveals Robb and Arya Stark.

"Hello." I say nervously, gripping Wolfie's collar to stop her from bounding up to them.

"Velena!" Arya cries.

"You'll never guess what she's done." says Robb looking down at his sister who currently has a very mischievous look plastered onto her face.

"She set fire to Joffrey's hair?" I ask returning Arya's smile.

"No." replies Robb, with a look in his eyes that says he would love to see that.

"Damn!" I half shout, motioning for us all to go upstairs. "I was hoping it would be that."

"I flicked food at Sansa, she got it on her face!" she laughs.

"Arya, she's your sister you should try and be nice." I say. Robb nods and looks seriously at his sister.

"See you tomorrow," I smile as I reach my door. "and no more food fights, either of you!" I joke and head inside.

Wolfie sits on her tatty old rug that I put next to the bed and falls asleep. I get ready for bed, brushing my hair and plaiting it, then changing into a shift. I crawl beneath the furs, blow out the candle and rest my head on the feather pillow. Slowly I sink into sleep and dream of direwolves and stags and distant thunder.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked the way I wrote Arya. As usual please review, thanks to everyone who followed and favorited!


	4. Chapter 4

The dawn quickly swallows Winterfell and I am woken by a chorus of birdsong coming from the Godswood contained within the castle grounds. I lie in bed for a little while savoring the quiet. I have a strange feeling though, like I half remember something, something that is very important. It is so frustrating that Wolfie senses that something is wrong and gets up. I stroke her muzzle and feel my anger ebb away. Bettanie is probably still asleep, when she gets the chance she drinks a lot. She had last night off and evidently made good use of it. Since none of the other ladies came except for Bettanie and Lalis came with me I decide to wear something simple that does not require assistance. I opt for leather boots and leggings with a light purple tunic that comes to halfway down my thighs. Some might call my outfit revealing but I think that little Arya will like it. For my hair I brush it and pull it back into a single braid. I dig out Wolfie's leash from my trunk and clip it onto her collar then head downstairs with my dog by my side.

The Great Hall has been cleaned since last night and cleared of most of the tables leaving only the top two which have been pushed together. At the head of the table are our hosts. When I get close enough to not have to shout I ask if it is alright to bring my dog to the table, Catelyn smiles and pulls out the chair next to her in answer. All of the Stark children are present including Ned's bastard and his ward Theon. This time my seat is next to Sansa who keeps looking at me and then turning away as if I am an embarrassment, I look down at myself and then realize it must be because I'm not wearing a dress. The table is set with bacon, boiled eggs, bread and some leftover meats from last night. I help myself to some brown bread and butter then some bacon. The talk at the table turns to a tourney that is happening today between the boys of both families. Robb and Bran are excited, Arya and Rickon are looking forward to watching. I however, know how much of a bad loser Joffrey is and how he is all talk, I've never seen Robb fight but I already know that he will win their sparring match.

Slowly we start to finish our breakfast until it is just Rickon left eating, he clears his plate and I think that he must be done, he is not, he just shovels more smoked ham into his mouth.

"You greedy little pig!" shouts Arya as she dives on her little brother tickling him.

"Arya! Stop that at once!" Lady Stark has a motherly voice most of the time but when her children step out of line it turns harsh. Ned laughs and picks up his son, placing him on his knee. Arya giggles and starts to nibble on some cheese, smiling at her brother. Sansa shakes her head and Jon and Robb share an exasperated look. _This is what we should have had,_ I think. My face goes completely blank and I am suddenly aware of how watery my eyes are. My throat closes up and I can't even mutter a quick thank you, I just run out, tears streaming down my face followed by Wolfie. I angrily wipe the tears off my cheek and keep my head down as I walk, barely noticing how cold it is outside. I hate people seeing my weaknesses. I hate having people's pity. I splash mud around as I stomp towards I don't know what. I guess that I am near the Godswood and it seems like the ideal place to sit for a while and rebuild my defenses. Just as I am nearing my destination I look behind me to check if I'm being followed, then I slam straight into something, or rather someone.

"Er...sorry." I say keeping my eyes down, studying the mud splatters on my boots. I sidestep to get out of the person's way and continue walking.

"Wait!" I hear footsteps behind me and I know that they are following me. Like a spooked deer I start to run, I hear the pace behind me increase as well. I don't think, I just run, that has always been my response to problems. I run.

I reach the Godswood and see the silver tree at the center with it's crimson leaves. I make a beeline for it and attempt to hide behind the thick trunk. Then my assailant comes into view.

I see his face and gasp. If there is anyone I don't want to see me at my lowest it is him. I don't want the future Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North to see me crouched beneath the heart tree, crying like a babe. I shuffle around the tree so that he won't see me but the sound of my movement draws his attention and he looks at me. I bury my face in Wolfie's fur as Robb comes closer.

"I never thought I would see you cry." he says, I chuckle hysterically through my sobs. There is near silence as Robb walks over to me, I hear the creaking of leather as he sits down next to me. There is no escape now, he's seen my tears.

"Have you ever lost someone?" I ask raising my blotchy tear streaked face.

"No." he answers simply. "I never knew my grandparents or my aunt and one of my uncles...but I know it's been worse for you." I let out a breath.

"It's just after everything that's happened to us, I thought...I hoped that the Gods would stop using us as playthings. People say that Robert was lucky, that killing made him king. A god's gift to him. It wasn't a gift. It isn't a gift. They took what he wanted, the only thing he really wanted and left him wine and food in her place. My parents died when I was two, my surrogate father a few weeks ago, they took…" I don't know if I should continue, I look up at Robb who has fixed his eyes on a tree a few meters away. "I've never told anyone." I whisper.

"Told anyone what?" he asks looking at me, I take a calming breath and make myself remember.

"When I was fourteen I met someone, a page at Dragonstone. You have probably noticed my eyes, how they are different colours." he intently gazes into my face. "He had that too, over the next three years we tried to meet each other, when I visited Stannis and when he came to Storms End. Eventually I realized that I loved him." fresh tears roll down my face. "Well, I told him and he said he loved me too. I was going to find a septon, to marry us, but Stannis had to go out riding, I forget why. I just remember waving as he rode off with my brother and screaming when he came back...The horse stepped in a rabbit hole. The stupidest thing. He was thrown from his horse and died before I could see him again." Robb pulls me into a hug, I hold on tight like I might lose him if I let go.

xoxox

When I have stopped crying Robb lets me go, I stand up and cross my arms.

"If you breathe a word of this to anyone I will sneak into your room one night when you're asleep and I will slit your throat."

"Breathe a word of what?" he asks.

"Ha ha, how very cliche." I reply, any trace of the earlier sadness disappearing fast.

"Will you be alright now?" he says more quietly.

"Why shouldn't I be?" I start walking back to the main castle where my room is.

"My whole family just saw you bolt from the table for no apparent reason." this sentence stops me in my tracks.

"Tell them...tell them that I wasn't feeling too well, I drank too much. Tell them that."

"Alright, but I don't know if my mother or Arya will buy it."

"Just make it sound convincing, I have a reputation as the King's unbreakable sister to keep up." I shout back.

A/N: So there's the back story. The Seven have really got it in for the Baratheons haven't they? Thanks again to the 10 people who followed and 9 who favorited, I know I have some regular readers so there's no excuse for not reviewing! I would really appreciate a review even if it is just one word. Thanks for reading! :)


	5. Chapter 5

I clean myself up when I arrive back at my room, my eyes are still a little red. I sit for a little while with Wolfie. After a while I hear a voice through the door.

"Velena? Are you alright?" it's Arya.

"Yes, I'm fine. I was just a little under the weather." I reply slowly. "Aren't you supposed to be with your septa?" I ask, trying to change the subject. I smile, noting the agitated noise Arya makes. I stand up and slide the latch across to let her in, she is carrying a tray with bread, butter and cheese on it.

"Yes, but stupid Sansa and that old bat Mordane are driving me crazy!" she moans as she puts the food on a table and sits by me to stroke Wolfie. "I want to go and spar with the boys but I don't think Ser Rodrik will let me."

"Did you bring lunch?" I look at the food and realise how hungry I am.

"Yes, I noticed you weren't there and went to the kitchen."

"Thank you so much Arya." I give her a hug and grab the tray. We sit and eat together and talk about sword fighting, warrior women and many other topics. By the time all of the food is gone we are fast friends.

"Shall we go and watch the boys spar?" I ask, smiling. "We can take Wolfie for a walk as well." I motion for Arya to stand and pick up the leash. This time I am not in such a hurry so I pick a leather jacket with gold antler embroidery around the neck, a pair of gloves and one of my woolen winter cloaks. We walk down the stairs and out into the courtyard. Waiting for Arya is another of the direwolves, a lovely grey-white wolf with bright inquisitive eyes. Nymeria runs along side us, playfully snapping and howling at Wolfie who is at least twice as big as her. The older wolfhound seems to like the company of the young wolf and replies in kind but seems a little more restrained. Arya leads the way to the training ground and when she sees Jon standing on the covered bridge, watching Bran and Prince Tommen fighting with wooden swords. I hang back, letting Arya and Jon have this moment. Arya jumps into Jon's arms and he laughs before placing her back down. The Bastard's direwolf is also by his side, quiet and with completely white fur. Instead from interrupting I stand and watch the two young boys fighting bellow. Standing below the bridge are Theon and Robb, the latter is also wearing leather padding like Bran and is holding a blunted sword. My attention is grabbed when I hear a little cry. Bran is seemingly the winner of this little battle. My youngest nephew is defeated so I think that I should probably go and make sure he is alright, I like Tommen and Myrcella, they are good children and have kind hearts, unlike their older brother. I tell Wolfie to stay and rush down to the yard, Bran helps Tommen up. I brush some of the dirt off him and take his wooden sword.

"Are you well Tommen?" I ask, the boy beams up at me with some mud on his nose. I laugh and try to wipe it off with my sleeve.

"Did I fight well auntie Ena?" I nod and give him a hug.

"I'm very proud of you Tommen." I say. He looks over at Bran, not in a mean way at all and puts out his hand for the other boy to shake. I am pleased that no bad blood has developed between the two. I make sure that Bran is also alright and make my way over to the Lannister retainers with my nephew. Joffrey is standing with them his hand on his new sword.

"Joffrey, I don't think you are allowed to use a proper sword." I warn, trying to avert his anger at Winterfell's castellan or Robb.

"I am heir to the Seven Kingdoms! Do you think I can't handle my own sword?" he replies, venom in every syllable.

"Well, when using live steel, if ether of you can't handle your own swords Tommen may become heir to the Seven Kingdoms. Joff, I am just thinking of your safety here." I hope that he will listen but, if past experience is anything to go by I have probably made the situation worse.

"Don't call me Joff! You are not my mother." he yells, his face turning slightly pink.

"That's lucky for you or you would have been slapped by now." I snap back.

"Go away! What do women know of combat anyway. I don't need to be chastised by-" my hand comes through the air and slaps him smartly across the face, it makes a sound like a clap of thunder. He stumbles backwards and clutches at his cheek.

"I warned you, _Joff._" I say smiling at him as though he had just given me a cake.

"You'll pay for this you bi-" I slap him again and turn around to return to the bridge.

"Tommen shouldn't be hearing that language, _Joff_, think of what your mother will say." I call back with my hand on Tommen's shoulder, leading him back to the Starks. I return to Wolfie, who Tommen quickly begins to play with and continue to watch my other nephew. He sneers at Ser Rodrik and Robb when the castellan attempts to give him one of the blunt swords. Joffrey is backed up with his retainers, all standing like bodyguards around the stuck up Prince. I sigh, tell Tommen to stay with Wolfie and see if I can sort out this mess.

However by the time I get there _Joff_ has already turned his back on us.

"I feel that I must apologise for the behavior of my nephew. He is our prince, but that is no excuse." I say as Robb looks ruefully at the blonde prince retreating back to Winterfell.

"He is unfortunately much more lion than stag." I continue.

"It isn't your fault, my lady, I blame his mother." he replies as he twists the blunted sword in his hand, he is evidently still wishing for a fight. A mischievous grin spreads across my face.

"I have no aversion to blunted blades, Stark."

"You wish to spar?" he asks incredulously, whilst looking me up and down. "My Lady I don't think that it is proper-"

"Stop with the my Ladying, and it is entirely proper, I'm descended from Storm Kings. Why shouldn't I fight like my forefathers?" I can hear Arya who calling for Robb to let me spar. I can tell that he is tempted and with a last look at me he shrugs and Ser Rodrik hands me a heavy sword and looks at me as though daring me to ask for a lighter weapon. I quickly shrug off the cloak and hand it to Theon. Goosebumps run up my arms. I stand still with one foot in front of the other and raise the sword then let it fall as if it's too heavy. Rodrik guffaws and Robb bites back his laughter in an attempt to not be rude. I quickly seize it off the ground and begin to swing it around in my hand and feel for the balance. Robb notices and his eyes grow wide realizing that I am no simple noble lady. He changes his stance a little and inches closer. I decide that the best tactic is to make him complacent.

It is quickly clear to me that he is not going to attack first so I swing at his head, it is a little wide as I mean it to be, he blocks it with his blade, I press down hard but he easily repels it. I withdraw the pressure and this time aim for his hip, this he again blocks, I will have to get him on the offensive to beat him, we both strain to keep the swords together but I use this distraction to lift up my left leg and push him backwards. He is not expecting this so it doesn't matter that I haven't kicked him hard. He reels backwards but finds his footing. He grins at me as he walks quickly back to the center of the field, there is a wild, feral look in his eyes this time, I've finally woken the wolf. Now he turns back to me and makes as if to hit my shoulder but instead spins round and goes for my middle, this stroke I parry and then slide my sword down his blade and press it to his arm. He darts to the side and a flabbergasted Ser Rodrik nods and says "continue". Robb becomes a whirlwind of sword strokes that I barely keep up with. Our sparring match ends with both of us exhausted, stuck in a battle of wills. With one last lazy attempt at his chest which he of course parries. I try to block the next strike but the force of it knocks me over. He stands over me with his sword pressed to my neck.

"Do you yield?" he demands, still being careful not to hurt me. "Do you yield?" repeats my opponent.

"Do _you_ yield?" I ask with a smile slowly creeping across my face.

"What?" Robb asks. I push the point of my sword a little harder onto his stomach so that he notices. I lower my arm and place my sword on the ground and grin up at Robb who holds out his hand to help me up. I accept his help and give the sword back to Ser Rodrik who is so surprised he still hasn't said a word. I make a mock curtsy and laugh at the look of confusion on Robb's face. I turn around and walk to Theon who bemusedly holds out my cloak. Arya runs down from the bridge, followed of course by her direwolf, and congratulates me. As I swing the heavy cloak back on and do up the gold clasp I note that the mysterious Jon Snow has disappeared along with his albino companion. Tommen is still with Wolfie and he gives me a wide smile. I let him hold Wolfie's lead as we walk back up to Winterfell. In my peripheral vision I can see the men I have left in the yard with wide eyes and varying levels of shock on each face.

xoxox

Lady Stark and Septa Mordane have been looking for Arya for quite some time, they find us as we are walking to the royal rooms with the intention of leaving Tommen with his mother.

"Arya!" Arya ducks as if shrinking away from an explosion. "Arya! Where have you been?" shouts Catelyn. Arya cringes as looks at me pleadingly.

"Sorry Catelyn. I asked Arya to come and find me so that she could show me around. It really is my fault, not Arya's." I say, trying to be as sincere as possible.

"In that case," she replies, her eyes narrowed at both of us. "I see no need to punish you Arya, however you will need to make up the time you missed." Arya groans. "But as you are with Lady Velena you can spend the rest of the day with her." she suddenly smiles and thanks her mother. "Oh, and Velena, you might want to have your clothes washed." the woman says with a humorous glint in her eyes. I try to look at the back of my jacket and leggings, indeed they have brownish marks on them from when I was knocked over. Arya and Tommen giggle.

"What are you looking at?!" I shout in pretend anger.

A/N: A cute chapter there, wouldn't you agree? If you do please review or if you don't please still review anyway as I haven't had any yet. I hope you don't think that it is out of character at all and that you enjoyed this chapter.


	6. Chapter 6

The rest of the time at Winterfell passes in relative quiet, eventually the departure draws near. The day before the court is due to leave there is a hunt, I had planned to accompany my brother and the others but suddenly my joy at riding has disappeared. So instead, on the eve of our departure I am to be found walking around Winterfell without much purpose. My family were raised in the light of the Seven. Robert has never been religious, Stannis prayed from time to time with our father and mother, I think. As far as I know Renly and I were anointed with the seven holy oils when we were born. All this changed when our parents were claimed by the sea. Stannis said that the Seven would never again have his worship and Robert instructed for us to be taught by the castellan and maester instead of a septon or septa. I can't remember praying in my life. So I am surprised when I find myself walking back to the Godswood on this chilly morning. I wrap my cloak around the wool dress tighter and see my breath freeze before my eyes. Now that I have time to really explore and take in my surroundings I see how wild this place is. A beautiful ancient wood, full of mystery, enclosed by castle walls. It is hard not to feel like I am intruding on something. The air is invigorating in here, full of life. There is moss on the floor and some occasional patches of grass. I walk past several different kinds of trees but it is the weirwood tree that I am most interested in. I put my hand on the silver bark and walk around the trunk until I see the face. It is carved deep into the tree. Out of the eyes is a stream of red sap.

"Weeping blood." I whisper. On this side of the tree is a pool, flat as if it was frozen however steam is gently blowing off it, showing that this is another of the hot springs. I sit on a flat stone by the side of the tree. I remember asking Robert what the Godswood was for at Storm's End and how you pray to the Old Gods. He had no idea. I don't know what I am supposed to do so for a while I sit and contemplate. My dream, the one about stags and direwolves comes to mind. I still have that feeling, like we are in a momentary pause before all hell breaks loose.

"I…I know that something is coming." I swallow. "Something bad...Was the direwolf a sign?" I ask, having no realistic hope that there will be an answer. Then I hear something, a rustle of leaves. In my heart it feels like it is a yes. "I want to help these people. I know that the Old Gods didn't kill my parents, there is a Godswood at Storm's End but you couldn't help, could you?" There is a gust of wind, like a caress, an apology. "How can I help them?" This time there is no answer, this answer must come from inside.

xoxox

I am returning from the Godswood when an utterly terrifying sound rents the air, it is an utterly distraught howl of grief and loss: the cry of a direwolf. I follow the sound, it leads me to the foot of a tower where a crowd has gathered around something. I can't see Catelyn or anyone with more authority than me so I push through the people. What I see is even worse than what I expected. Bran is lying on the ground with his eyes closed and his legs bent at strange angles. I don't scream, I stare for a moment until Bran's wolf cries again. I suddenly focus on what needs to be done.

"Aybe. Go and get Maester Luwin." I command, speaking to the page who helped me on the first day here. "Now!" I shout when he doesn't move.

"You, go and get Lady Stark, make sure that her other children do not come with her." I say to a maid.

"Is there a horse in the stables that you can ride?" I ask one of my household guards.

"Yes, m'lady." he replies.

"Find anyone else who can ride, give them the same message. Find Lord Stark and the King, say that they must return to Winterfell at once, on the word of Lady Velena." I finish and attempt to get everyone else to go to the Great Hall. Once the crowd has dispersed a little I drop to my knees by Bran. I put my hand above his face, I can feel shallow breaths on my palm.

"Thank the Gods." I whisper, he is still alive. I take his hand. "Bran, your mother is coming as fast as she can, and Maester Lunwin to make you better again. Oh Bran, why did you climb?" I sigh, brushing his hair off his face. I look up and see a figure running towards us. "Catelyn!" I shout, she is nearly there. I get out of the way.

"Bran! My boy!" she wails.

"He is still alive Catelyn." I say, my words have no effect and she falls down by her son. She kisses his forehead and strokes the top of his head. I hold her on the shoulder, trying to provide any scrap of comfort I can. Next comes Winterfell's Maester. I stand up and run to him.

"Bran fell, he is still alive, breathing. At the least his legs are broken." I report, to save Bran's precious time. The Maester at Storm's End enjoyed teaching me the basics of medicine, I remember him telling me that you should never move someone whose bones have been broken unless you have to.

"Did you see him fall?" he asks, a worried but calculative look in his eyes.

"No but I sent all of the people who found him to the hall." He nods, the maester precedes to check his pulse and the temperature of his face, he feels for the bones in his neck.

"Lord Stark should be arriving soon, wait for him and send him to us." he instructs, all the while Catelyn is crying, it breaks my heart to leave her like this but I do as I am told. I hitch up my skirts and run towards the gates. After some time I hear loud hoofbeats. At the head of the column of riders is Lord Stark, his face is lined with worry.

"Lord Stark!" I shout, to grab his attention. He doesn't dismount, his horse comes to a halt next to me. "Your son, Bran has fallen from a tower, Catelyn and Maester Luwin are with him." I point at where I ran from and Ned gallops off in that direction.

"What happened?" shouts Robb from his black destrier.

"Bran is very hurt." I say slowly, trying to break the news as delicately as possible. He almost throws himself from his horse, and marches up to me, grabbing me by my shoulders.

"What happened?" he demands. The time for games is over.

"He is still alive but his legs are broken, he fell from a tower." Robb makes as if to follow his father, I seize his arm. "As far as I know your brothers and sisters don't know what happened, shouldn't you go to them?" He pulls it out of my grasp and just keeps going, breaking into a run. I now have no idea what to do, the energy that got me through the events of the afternoon has just dropped, leaving me with nothing. I stare at the person I joked with and sparred with running towards his brother, this is an abrupt end to his carefree days. This moment marks the end of the beginning for all the Stark children. Loss or near loss, the latter is what I hope this will be, is really what makes people grow up. Some think it is when a boy has his first woman or when a girl flowers or is married but they are wrong. It is pain and loss that makes us who we are.

xoxox

A/N: So this is the chapter where everything starts going down hill, I hope you like the way I wrote it.

This story has fifteen followers, 1300 views but no reviews yet. How does that work? I know I keep harping on about reviews but I would really love it if you left one!


	7. Chapter 7

Warning: This chapter contains some adult themes and language (you can thank Tyrion for that.) it's probably about the same as a fifteen movie if you're in the UK, and to make up for the shorter chapters recently this one is a bit longer.

The wolves are always howling, all five of them except Ghost. The albino direwolf is as silent as he was before but has a sorrowful look in his eyes now. Catelyn won't let Bran's wolf stay with his master so the currently unnamed direwolf sits below Bran's window and howls, it hasn't stopped all night. I took food to it the evening after Bran's fall with a sleeping draught from Maester Luwin mixed in but either it had no effect or the wolf didn't eat anything. I am dreadfully tired, having only got around three hours of sleep last night but I have no doubt that Catelyn is worse, I visited her after all the Starks did; I didn't want to intrude on the family, her face was gaunt and her voice showed her deep sadness. It is now the day of departure for the court, I expect that many will be happy to leave the wilderness that surrounds Winterfell and to a degree I will too, the castle is now somber and cold. However I have found solace in the North, like I have never had before and I will definitely miss the Starks who remain here, they seem like they could do with some help now as well since Eddard is going South and Catelyn is not going to be able to help Robb with ruling the North in his father's stead. I lie in bed in a futile attempt to get more sleep, part of me knows that I might as well get up but the rest of me is too lazy to do anything. I crack open an eyelid and peer into the room, the curtain prevents most of the light getting in but I can see that it must be late morning. I wrap a dressing gown around my shift and open the door. Two members of my household guard are standing sentry outside. I send for Bettanie and Lalis to come and dress me and then shut the door again, the next time it opens it is Lalis with all of my laundry in a basket.

"Good morrow, My Lady." she says, politely.

"Lalis, what have I said about calling me 'My Lady'?"

"Sorry._ My Lady_." she jokes as she loads the last of my dresses into the trunks. I don't know Lalis as well as Bettanie because she has only served me for five months or so but she has a good sense of humor and a remarkable knowledge of the goings on at court. She is four years younger than me and has bronze coloured hair that reaches down to her elbows, she is thin and short but very pretty. I wash at the basin and then change into a clean slip. As a mark of respect to the mourning family I choose a silver grey dress with accents of white embroidery instead of something overly rich and colourful. Bettanie arrives as Lalis is is pulling me into a corset. The older woman picks up an underskirt and lays it out on the bed as I breathe in so that Lalis can tie the straps. I pull on the gown easily, a darker grey sleeved wrap is put on next and finally a pelt over my shoulders. I look in the mirror and decide that I look like a true northerner. I wear my boots because it is too cold for slippers and go to the chest of draws in the corner, in the bottom draw is a short dagger in a sheath. It has an antler handle and is finest valyrian steel, however it is not richly decorated, the only extra detail on it is my house words engraved on the small cross guard. I read the familiar moto and smile to myself as I tuck it up my sleeve. Now, convinced that I am safe thanks to my dagger, I walk down to the hall to break my fast. My handmaidens go to the kitchens for their meal and I ask them to bring something up for Wolfie.

I pass the Queen and her two youngest children in a corridor, Tommen and Myrcella smile and say a fond greeting, Cersei gives me a guarded smile.

"Sister." I say curtly.

"Velena." she replies. I don't hate Cersei, I just dislike the way she always seems to be hiding something. Her love for her children is what keeps things civil between us, I couldn't not love Tommen and Myrcella. I continue walking towards the hall and the enticing aroma of freshly baked bread causes me to increase my pace. The passage opens up to the hall and the tables are arranged as they normally are but this time there are only two occupants and neither of them are Starks.

"Good morning dear brothers." I say with a tired smile as I take a seat across from my two brothers in law. Jaime gives me a winning smile and saunters off but Tyrion stays at the table and takes a long gulp of beer. "Is there any more news on Bran?" I ask whilst buttering some bread.

"The Maester says that the most dangerous stage is over and that he may recover." Tyrion says matter of factly.

"That is brilliant news." I say, a true smile spreading on my face. "Are you looking forward to returning to the capital? I expect you're missing playing the game."

"Ah, yes indeed, I have missed scheming and plotting." he replies.

"That's the same thing." I point out, he nods and languidly points at me.

"She's a smart one." he says to no one in particular. "Anyway I'm not returning to that blasted place just yet, I think the high lords can fuck up their plans on their own for a while." he says and takes a large bite out of some bread. I swallow my food.

"What do you mean?" I ask, perplexed.

"Haven't you always wondered about the Wall?" he looks into the middle distance as if imagining the great ice structure.

"Well I know a life of honor is tempting but I don't think King's Landing would survive without you." I say with mock seriousness.

"It's touching you find me that important in politics." he replies in kind.

"Oh, no it's not politics I'm talking about, I'm talking about all of the whores that would go bust, I expect they account for around a third of the commerce in King's Landing." he snorts derisively. "But seriously, I will miss you Tyrion."

"As will I Velena. Keep an eye on Joffrey will you?" he asks and then hops down off the bench. I finish my breakfast in silence, except for the faint howling of wolves.

xoxox

Over breakfast I have considered what I can do to help the Starks, I can go back to King's Landing and look out for Lord Stark, undoubtedly my brother will whip up some trouble and I can help sort that out, but I think Eddard will do a good job there. The Stark that has the largest task ahead will be Robb. He has spent his whole life building up to being Lord of Winterfell but he was expecting to wait a lot longer and to have more people to support him. With Catelyn indisposed he will definitely be feeling lost and I have had experienced managing a household and expenses from when I was left in charge of Storm's End, officially it belongs to Renly but I have lived there for most of my life. I go back to my rooms and find Bettanie folding the last of my small clothes.

"Bettanie," _she's going to love me for this. _I think, "don't take the chests down to go on the wagons just yet."

"Why?" she asks, an tired look on her face.

"I am probably staying here for a little while longer." I rush, attempting to get it over with quickly. I squint as Bettanie throws a shift into the chest with violent force.

"So you're telling me that Lalis and I packed these trunks for nothing?" she asks, attempting to suppress her anger.

"Sorry, don't unpack them yet." I apologize and give her an uncomfortable smile.

"It's alright Velena, I don't really mind, it is my job after all."

"Thank you, you're the best." I give her a hug and leave again, as I walk away I hear a tutting noise and I giggle quietly.

xoxox

"Leave him alone, Jaime." I command with a tired voice. He is talking to Jon Snow, making fun of him really, laughing at everything he is. The Nights Watch recruit is defending the order that he is soon to be a member of.

"I'm just thanking him for the _noble sacrifice _he is making." his voice is saturated with sarcasm. "You do like defending Stark boys don't you, oh wait I forgot, your not a Stark." he turns back to Jon who just finds a new level of brooding. I let out a breath.

"You're just jealous, Jaime."

"Really? I'm jealous of some boy who can't even beat a weak little thing like you?" he walks closer until I can feel his breath on my cheek. I turn away but when I look back at him I smile, not my charming smile, my challenging smile.

"At least he fights fair, I don't think he would win by stabbing someone in the back." now the Lannister narrows his eyes at me but I stand my ground.

"You don't want me as your enemy, Baratheon, all the knights in King's Landing couldn't save you." he snarls at me, spitting out my name as if it is poison in his mouth.

"I fight my own battles Lannister." I reply in kind.

"You think your name or your meager skill with a sword will keep you safe?" he replies, in an intimidating tone. I nod and smirk wickedly in his face. "Maybe we should see about that." he turns and walks away.

"Maybe we should." I call after him. I don't pay attention to where he goes I just let out a short laugh.

I turn around again to find Jon, who looks suitably surprised, at least he isn't staring at the floor and gritting his teeth like usual.

"Why is it that I feel I'm always apologising for that side of the family?" I mutter to myself. Jon turns back to the blacksmith. "Jon, you know he was partially right." I warn.

"The Nights Watch-" he begins to say.

"Protects the Seven Kingdoms, thousands of years, I know. But trust me, it isn't what you expect; it is a crumbling order made up of beggars, thieves and dishonored men. I was there when one of the black brothers left King's Landing with his new recruits, I doubt you will find Castle Black to be a better home than this."

"I am a stranger in my own home." he says looking down at the floor.

"Tell that to Arya, Robb or your Father. When Arya found out that you were leaving she ran to me, crying. She needs you Jon. I'm an orphan, at least you know one of your parents, don't throw it away too eagerly." Now that brooding look comes back. "Think about what this means for others as well as yourself before you leave, before you take your vows." I say and walk away to the guest house hoping that I have opened his eyes to what the Wall is really like.

xoxox

I find my brother in his apartment in the guest house. His squire, Lancel Lannister is searching for an item of clothing in one of five large oak trunks, he has a pinched look on his face and is clearly scared of his King.

"Not the brown one! The black and gold, Gods! Did your mother drop you often as a child?" he bellows at the poor boy, Robert is wearing an off white shirt and evidently needs a doublet of some sort.

"Brother, leave him alone." he turns to me and still looks red faced and angry.

"Who are you to order me to do anything?" he shouts indignantly.

"Your sister, with twice your intelligence and a lot more courage." I say plainly, Lancel gasps and looks up at me. Robert laughs and his expression softens.

"Little doe, you look like a stag in wolf's clothing." he says in a softer voice that he only uses for me.

"Yes I do." I reply looking down at my grey dress. I wave Lancel away and start to look through Robert's clothes. "Is this the one you're after?" I ask, holding up an expensive doublet made out of black and gold threads woven together to form a pattern of vines. He nods.

"Why are you here then?" he asks as I throw it over to him and he begins putting it on.

"I was wondering, since you are dragging Ned to King's Landing and Catelyn-"

"Yes?" he hurries me along, finishing the buttons.

"I would like to stay here a while to help the Starks get back on their feet." I say quickly.

"Really," he looks at me sideways with a smirk. "and I suppose this has nothing to do with the young Lord of Winterfell." I let out a tired sigh and pour out two glasses of wine.

"You know my thoughts on marriage, that was just wishful thinking on your part." I say back and take a long gulp of wine.

"Velena-"

"I do not wish to speak of this." My grip tightens on the goblet until I'm afraid it will shatter.

"But you should think about who you want to marry, I will not force your hand-"

"Robert, I don't want to marry!" I shout, my anger bubbling to the surface. Robert holds his hands up in surrender. At length a smile returns to his face, I look at him questioningly.

"It is true what they say about Baratheon women." he lets out a gruff laugh.

"What do they say?" I take a long breath and let the anger drain out of me.

"They have double the fury." I smile and pick up my brother's crown.

"And don't you forget it." I reply, placing it on his head.

"Ours is the Fury, sister." he quotes with a small smile.

"Ours is the Fury."

xoxox

A/N: So, still no reviews. And yes I am going to keep mentioning this until someone does. I think that this is a good topic for reviews: in a few chapters time there will be some romance! I didn't put this as the category because it isn't really the main part but I just want your opinions on who you think should be Velena's love interest as although it is written it is not set in stone, so if someone comes up with something amazing I may change it. Thanks to the people who followed and favorited and one person who added this fic to their community!


	8. Chapter 8

It is a clear afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and further south it would be a perfect day, but here it is freezing and a biting wind cuts through my cloak. My hair flies around and becomes something resembling a bird's nest. The courtyard is full again, like it was a few weeks ago. As if to match the weather this is a much colder occasion, Catelyn and Bran are not here and like a pack of wolves, separating the Starks makes them weaker. I am standing by Rickon, holding his little hand as he stands next to Robb. Maester Luwin, Theon and Ser Rodrik are also there and my handmaidens and household guard stand next to their northern counterparts. In the yard the King's court and those departing for the Wall are all on horseback or in the Queen's carriage, it reminds me of how we arrived. I feel like there has been an exchange, Ned and his daughters for me and my ladies. Arya, Sansa and their septa are the last to enter the carriage, Arya is repeatedly rolling her eyes and Sansa is practically glowing. Sansa will love King's Landing, I can imagine her at the parties and dancing at balls. She will be a diplomatic, dutiful Queen but I fear for her. To rule a kingdom a king needs a strong queen, Sansa is not strong like that.

"Velena!" Arya shouts and tries to run but her Septa reigns her in. She attempts to walk demurely but it looks more like a strop. She hugs Rickon and ruffles his hair, rather like I have seen Jon ruffle hers.

"Come back soon Arya." he mutters.

"Goodbye Rickon." his name catches in her throat and I can see her blink away tears. She turns to me and gives me a small smile.

"Look after him for me." Arya whispers. I give her a wry smile and bend down a little to give her a hug.

"Have you packed Needle carefully?" I ask quietly.

"Yes." she replies at equal volume. I wink and she giggles. She takes a step over to Robb. Sansa has said goodbye to Rickon and she now stands in front of me. The oldest Stark girl is again looking down.

"Sansa," she looks up, revealing her striking Tully eyes. "I regret that we have not spent more time together. I think you will enjoy the capital, just remember," I take her hand. "not everyone is as honorable as your father." I look seriously into her eyes, blue meeting lilac and storm grey. She just stares back at me, not knowing what to say.

"Thank you for that advice, my Lady." I give her an encouraging look.

"I don't mean to scare you. Goodbye for now Sansa."

"Yes Velena." She curtsies and I notice my brother and Ned, I think that Robert has probably been saying goodbye to Lyanna. They walk up to us and Ned kisses my hand and says a quick thank you. He and Robb hug and I can feel how apprehensive the young lord is as his father says goodbye. Robert pulls me into a bear hug and completely unladylike I squeeze him back tightly.

"I always forget how tall you are now, I still remember the little girl getting mud and grass stains on her dresses." he says quietly so that only I can hear. I concentrate on remaining strong and keeping back the tears that threaten to roll down my cheeks. I remind myself that this is where I am supposed to be. I refuse to cry; I am a Baratheon of Storm's End, I do not cry, at least not here.

The long train of people streams out of Winterfell's gates Rickon begins to cry. I squeeze his hand. Ned smiles at me appreciatively. Then the newly appointed Hand looks at Robb to encourage him and he stands a little straighter. Ned kicks his horse into action and departs. Robert rides off next to him and looks back once but then is out of sight through the gates. I stare after them for a while and then walk away, taking Rickon with me. Shaggydog, the boy's direwolf follows.

"I don't want daddy and Arya and Sansa to go." he whispers softly. I stop a bend down to look into his blue eyes.

"They'll be back soon, and for now you have me." he looks at the floor, still feeling angry and betrayed. "If you like I can help you write a letter to all of them later." Rickon smiles a little and I ruffle his hair affectionately. I put my arm around his shoulders and lead him back to the Great Hall. Robb is still standing looking out of the gates long after everyone else has gone.

xoxox

Rickon is sad; he tries to pretend he isn't and is genuinely interested in my stories about various tourneys that I've attended. He is perched on a cushion on top of a chair so that he can get to the table. It isn't time for dinner yet but in about half an hour it will be so we sit and talk for a while. I don't know where Robb is but I know how hard it is for a six year old to comprehend being left by their family so I stay with Rickon. Theon arrives next and I say a polite greeting. He replies with a smarmy smile and his eyes flick down to look at my chest. I grit my teeth and draw my wrap over my body.

"You know I was surprised when I found out you weren't leaving." he says with a wide smile as he notices how I covered myself.

"It's My Lady to you, Greyjoy." I say with as much spite as I can muster.

"I wonder, _My Lady_, did you stay because you are interested in _Lord Stark's_ sword skills." he leers. I stand up and stare at him, my eyes narrowed and hands curled into fists. Theon draws closer to until his face is inches from mine.

"Say that again and I'll have you-"

"Have me what? Your power left with your brother." he grabs my arm and that is what tips me over the edge, I bring my knee up to his groin and he hisses in pain.

"So you were saying?" I ask as he sinks to the floor. It is possibly the worst time but the doors swing open again and Robb walks in.

"Theon are you alright?" he asks. I kick Theon, not as hard this time and he jumps up.

"Yes, I was just...um...doing my shoelace." he explains with a pained smile. I know that he will try and get me back but I have shown him how I deal with people who disrespect me. Robb calls a servant and they tell the kitchens that we are ready for dinner, he instructs for food to be sent to Catelyn. Theon gives me one last look and sits down leaving a chair for Robb. Robb takes his place next to me and talks to Theon about the diminished guard in Winterfell, I point out that I have fifteen of my own men who can be set to work with them. A tureen of soup arrives, two different cuts of pork, green apples and some bread is laid out on the table. There is little happy talk and even less laughter, when I notice Rickon yawning I decide to take him to bed and then call on Catelyn.

Rickon doesn't make any fuss as I take him upstairs, but he isn't happy when I leave him with his nanny. I promise to take him out with me tomorrow to walk Wolfie and then make him go to sleep.

xoxox

When I find Catelyn she is still in her dress from yesterday and a wheel shaped object is lying in her lap. She is sitting in a chair and working on a wooden figure next to her Bran is still sleeping in his bed. She looks up as I enter the room and close the door behind me.

"Velena." she puts down the figure, "I never thanked you for helping my son."

"It was no trouble Catelyn." I sit down on the end of Bran's bed. Catelyn continues tying straw hair onto the little piece of wood.

"Thank you for staying." she says quietly, we sit in silence for a while until I realise that she is making a prayer wheel.

"Is that the Maiden or the Mother?" I ask.

"The Mother." she answers.

"Is that how you pray to the Seven?" she looks up, surprised.

"Do you keep to the Old Gods at Storm's End?" she asks, clearly expecting me to know how to pray to the Seven.

"We don't keep to any gods really." I explain.

"This is one way, it protects children when their mother makes one. You can pray in the Sept if you like." she puts down the wheel and looks quite reminiscent. "When I first came North I didn't have anywhere to pray and neither did my household. So Ned set aside a room and had a Sept built, just for me. Robb could show you if you like." she smiles but then realises where she is again and grabs the wheel.

"Do you want to sleep? I could watch Bran for you." I ask, seeing how tired she is.

"No." I know that she doesn't mean to be rude but she does seem to snap at me.

"Old Gods or New, I hope with all my heart that Bran recovers. Good night then Catelyn." I say tiredly and leave.

xoxox

(Three days later)

_Dear Arya,_

_I'm sorry that you have to go in the carriage with Sansa. (please make sure no one else can see this letter!) Have you found someone to practice with? When I join you in King's Landing I'll be happy to help, if your father will let me of course. Nothing has changed in Winterfell really, Bran is still asleep but Maester Luwin insists that he is still on the road to recovery. Rickon is supposed to be helping me write this letter but he is quite sad at the moment and tries to avoid everyone. Yesterday I found him and Shaggydog perched in the Weirwood tree, he refused to come down until I promised to take him to Robb._

_I think you will like the capital, if you go to the library in the Red Keep you can find lots of books on battles and I recall reading an account of Nymeria's conquest of Dorne a few years ago. The librarian is a rather befuddled old man but his daughter is agreeable, she will gladly help you find what you need, just say I sent you. If you take a guard with you I think visiting some markets would be worthwhile, you can find everything and anything and the traders have many stories from Essos._

_I am sorry that I cannot send you happier news._

_Keep well,_

_Velena._

xoxox

A/N: WOW! What a response I got from last chapter! Sorry if you thought this one was a bit boring, but the next one should be better. Thank you to everyone who followed (25), favorited (19) and viewed (2410)!

Tonyrocks345: Thanks for your review, I hope you liked this chapter!

Kawaiixkisses: I'm glad you like Velena and find her interesting and hopefully not one-sided. She can definitely keep Robb on his toes! I can rule out Jon Snow because they have such a short time together, maybe if they met again something could develop but I don't think that Ena's going to end up on the Wall really.

Asianvegitables: I'm intrigued as to why you think they would be good together and I had never considered it. Thanks for your review!

Ojha: I am so glad you love it!


	9. Chapter 9

The winds outside are howling, most people probably find the sound annoyingly loud but I like it. The soft singing makes me feel at home, all I need is the salty tang of the ocean and a merrily crackling fire and I will be perfectly relaxed. The sound of the wind rattling the window and the glow of the candle will have to do. I have just tucked Rickon into bed and he has demanded a story so I sit on the chair next to his bed and am about halfway through one of my favorite tales that Robert told me and Renly as children:

"So Argilac the Arrogant decided to meet Orys in open battle, that's why we call him the Arrogant; Storm's End is the strongest castle ever built because the Children of the Forest wove their magic into the stones so that the wind and the water wouldn't destroy it and neither could siege weapons. Anyway he rode out to fight Orys Baratheon and Rhaenys with her dragon, Meraxes. Meraxes was so big that she could swallow whole horses, but her power wasn't in biting or eating." Rickon looks up at me and his eyes are wide and he is very interested. "The she-dragon breathed fire. Fire so hot it would turn you to ash in a second." the little boy gasps. "So of course Argilac was defeated at the Battle of the Last Storm. He fought Orys in single combat and both were injured. Orys won and the last King fell while a great storm hammered the coast. Argilac's daughter, Argella Durrandon stayed in Storm's End and declared herself Storm Queen. Her servants did not want to be destroyed by the dragon, like Harrenhal was, so they surrendered and caught her. They delivered her to Orys in chains. Remember that Aegon had offered a marriage between Orys and Argella? Well Orys freed her and married her so the whole war could have been avoided if Argilac hadn't been so arrogant in the first place. Orys decided to take her colours and words and they are our moto and sigil to this day." I finish the tale and slowly stand up.

"Can I have another story, Ena?" he sits up in bed, his eyes alight with curiosity. I let out a lighthearted sigh.

"Tomorrow, Rickon." I say and give him a little hug. "Now sleep." I pick up the flickering candle that is on the bedside table and turn to the door. Robb is standing in the doorway and I jump a little as I didn't hear anyone approach.

"Goodnight Rickon." he says and I hear the sound of Shaggydog jumping onto the bed. Robb moves out of the way so that I can leave and closes the door behind me.

An awkward silence develops as we walk down the corridor. Robb looks as though he is going to say something a few times but never does. I rack my brain for something to say but I can't think of anything that doesn't sound totally stupid so eventually I give in and hold my hands together in front of me in the demure, ladylike way I have seen the ladies at court do. _Why? Why am I trying to be ladylike? _I ask myself. I have rarely, if ever, tried to be ladylike. _Is Robb making me act like this? _I shake away this ridiculous notion and decide to say something along the lines of it being nice weather.

Another person begins to talk at exactly the same moment. "We need a new steward and there are several other appointments that require our immediate attention." we hear the soft voice of Winterfell's maester from inside Bran's bedroom. I stop walking and so does my companion.

"I don't care about appointments!" Catelyn says in a strained shout. I look at Robb and he looks at me. He walks into the room, I tentatively follow.

"I'll make the appointments. We'll talk about it first thing in the morning." this earns Robb a smile from the Maester.

"Very good my lord, my lady." Luwin nods to both of us as he walks past and leaves. Robb strides over to the window and opens the wooden casement, I stand at the end of Bran's bed and wonder if I should really be here. We can hear the sound of the two direwolves in the yard howling, Catelyn seems to hate the noise and she practically wilts at the sound.

"When was the last time you left this room?" the young lord asks with a slow, disappointed tone.

"I have to take care of him." Catelyn answers. I feel like I'm an unwelcome intruder and turn around to leave.

"Velena, stay." he almost commands, his voice is so weary and lost that I don't even consider going against him. "He's not going to die mother. Maester luwin says the most dangerous time has passed."

"What if he's wrong? Bran needs me." she protests.

"Rickon needs you. He's six, he doesn't know what's happening. He follows me around all day, clutching my leg, crying. Yesterday we thought he had run away, Velena found him in the heart tree, she tries to look after him but Velena isn't your replacement." I look down at the floor, not wanting to seem like I am taking over Catelyn's place. I do the best that I can to control the unruly boy and keep his spirits up at the same time but I know that I am nothing close to a mother. "Something worse will happen unless you start being a mother to him again." Robb says more forcefully. I remember the terror of losing Rickon, it makes me feel like I'm going to be sick.

"Close the windows, I can't stand it! Please make them stop!" she cries, it is a truly distraught sound and I can't stand the panic in her voice.

"Do as she says Robb." I order in a hard voice, leaving no room for discussion. Robb turns back to the window but he goes completely still for a moment.

"Fire!" I look up. "You stay here I'll come back." he calls as he runs out of the room.

"Fire?" I am taken aback. Catelyn gets to her feet and walks stiffly to the window. Something doesn't feel right about this; a fire, right now when most people will be inside after the day's work and when someone could easily slip about the castle unnoticed.

I take my dagger out of my sleeve and walk quietly to the door. I slowly step into the corridor and look both ways. I can't see anything out of place so I go to close the door, that's when I see movement out of the corner of my eye. I wait a moment, my senses in overdrive and hear the scuff of a shoe on the stone. I press my body into the wall and wait. A hooded man comes into view. I keep completely still until he is just through the door and then throw myself at him. I grab his hood and pull it down so that I can hold my dagger to his throat. The man is quite lanky and he flails around in an attempt to strike me. He elbows me in the stomach and I let out a moan however I do not let go, Bran's life rests on these next few seconds. The man throws his head around and manages to headbutt me on the temple. It dazes me and that is the slip up he needs. With a combination of luck and despiration he manages to shake off my grip on his hood and produces a knife of his own. He attempts to stab me in the belly with it so I have to let him go. Catelyn is not blind to what is happening and grabs a pewter candle holder, she stands in front of Bran as I again attempt to stop him. This time I don't bother with capturing him alive. I throw my dagger and it somersaults through the air and buries itself in his back, just below his right shoulder blade. He lets out and animalistic screech but still tries to get closer to the defenceless boy, asleep in his bed. Catelyn lets out a cry and raises the pewter candle holder above her head. Before she has chance to use it a grey-brown blur has darted past me and jumped up onto his back. The man shrieks and the ripping sound of flesh fills the room. His cry gets quieter and turns to a gargle as blood bubbles out of his tattered throat. Bran's direwolf again sinks his fangs into the assassin's flesh to make sure he is dead and then jumps up onto the bed and nuzzles his master. I stare at Catelyn, my blood pumping round at a furious pace and let out a long breath. After my breathing and pulse has slowed down and my headache has diminished I realise that more danger could be on it's way and I kneel down to pull my dagger out of it's grizzly target and take the weapon that the assassin had. For a moment I stop and study the dagger; Valyrian steel, Dragonbone handle and enough gold to hire a small army. I dismiss this train of thought and concentrate on listening out for someone approaching. The direwolf quietly lies next to the sleeping boy as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened whilst the man's dark blood pools on the floor mere feet away.

xoxox

A/N:Thank you to everyone who followed (27), favorited (19) and viewed (2863)! Please let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you and I always reply. :)


	10. Chapter 10

The red stone walls are hot to the touch, they have been baking in the southern heat for hours. The corridor is dark and the only light comes through the small cross shaped holes for archers to use in a siege. I start to walk again, panic setting in when I realise that I have no recollection of this place. My hands start to shake and my breaths become shallower. It is then that I notice the soft pad of leather soles on the flagstones behind me. I start to run, unable to turn around, scared of what I might see. There is a quiet slither behind me, they have just drawn a blade. My movements become even more frantic and just as I think that the corridor is infinite it opens up to the airy expanse of the throne room in the Red Keep. At the other end is the blasted piece of iron that so many wish to sit on. _Only those who wear a crown know it's true weight._ Or at least that's what Maester Cressin once told me. _Why would someone wish for that? _I ponder as I walk closer.

But then a ray of sunlight breaks from behind a cloud. I stand there transfixed. The glorified chair is gleaming, glittering, transformed to purest light. I step closer, it feels like every eye in Westeros and beyond is trained on me, even though the hall is empty. I ascend the steps, one measured pace at a time. A golden crown lies discarded on the top step. It is strong and cold in my hand as I pick it up; a satisfying weight. I turn and regard the hall. Slowly I sit, placing the crown on my lap. _So this is how it feels to sit on a throne._The chair is cold, bleak even. In a daze I raise the crown above my head. I bring it down until it rests just above my brow. I marvel at the feeling. I feel powefull, enlightened. A small smirk curls my lips. Time passes and eventually I hear people approaching. It is a number of people, I can hear their steps, strangely not their voices though. I should get up, replace the crown on the step, but I can't. I am suddenly powerless, I can't lift a finger. That's when they come into view. An army of kings. All with the legendary silver hair of the Targaryens. Each man wears a crown, the same crown that now presses down on my head. They step closer, a scowl on each face, identical narrowed eyes, fixated on me. Behind me a figure steps out of the shadows, I know they mean to kill me. I feel the ice cold bite of steel at my throat. Then a warm wetness spreading down my front. I scream as my blood gushes out and splatters the chair. The Targaryen kings watch on as I die, each set of purple eyes boring into mine, giving the same message: _Fire and Blood._

My hand flies to my throat. I cant breathe, I'm choking. My skin is clammy but feverishly hot. I scramble out of the sheets and somehow manage to get to the window. Haistily I throw open the casement and take a long gulp of the cold air. It is still dark, slightly lighter to the east but evidently very early in the morning. My right hand is still on my neck. It felt so real but there is no evidence of the nightmare on my skin. I take many calming breaths and wait for the panic attack to subside. Tears of fear and relief mingle on my cheeks. It is too warm inside Winterfell, and a little damp, like a bathhouse. I turn and survey the rest of the room. The bed, well it is almost unrecognisable, the sheets and furs are half on the floor, I seem to have torn at my pillow and feathers are all over the bed. I can see that the lock has been slid across on the door so I don't have to worry about someone getting in. On my bedside table both daggers are accounted for and I pick mine up. I decide that I am not going to stay here any longer and attempt to get dressed. My whole body feels numb and it is a victory when I successfully tie my leggings at the waist and lace up my boots. On top of a thick woolen tunic I throw on a black leather jerkin and my warmest cloak and quickly leave, remembering my dagger of course. So for around the sixth time since I've been here I make my way to the Godswood.

It has become a habit recently to wake early and go to the wood, I can't explain it, the place just seems to have a magical quality. I walk alone, I don't see anybody ether. The cold air that hits me as I leave the castle is just what I need to wake me up. _It was just a nightmare. _I have to keep telling myself. When I enter the Godwood I take my normal place, sitting on the rock by the pool. I

don't really want power, I don't want to sit on a throne. All I want is a family, I want the power to keep them safe. The sky begins to lighten and the stars start to disappear. When the sky has become a soft golden colour I hear a panting noise. I grip my dagger and stand. It is just Grey Wind. I smile and drop my hand. He smells it again and nuzzles my leg. The direwolves have grown so much in just the last few weeks. I sink back down onto the stone and the direwolf lies down next to me. I run my hand through his soft fur and scratch him behind the ear.

"You're usually with Robb. Where is he?" I ask. Grey Wind just looks up at me, his big glassy eyes seem to show understanding though. I sigh. "You'll keep him safe won't you? For me?" The direwolf gives me a little howl in response. I know that it will be time to go back to King's Landing soon, I can't reasonably stay here, my brothers need me, even though they think they don't. I resolve myself to talk to Robb about this, when it's appropriate of course. The sun has risen when I decide that it is time to go back to the castle. Grey Wind scampers along in front of me, like he is clearing the way for me and acting as a bodyguard. I chuckle, I can imagine Robb acting like that. The wolves have taken on lots of the characteristics of their owners. Grey Wind is protective and definitely the alpha male. Lady is demure and peaceful, Nymeria is willful but no less friendly, Bran's wolf is quiet but clever and Shaggydog is wild and a little aggressive. Grey Wind leads me to the great hall where the table is set with food. Robb is the only one there, _good,_ I think,_ it will be easier to talk about leaving. _I smile hesitantly as Grey Wind runs to his master.

"I was wondering where he had got to." Robb says as the direwolf settles it's self by his chair.

"He found me in the Godswood." I reply and pull out a chair across the table from him.

"Why don't you sit here?" the young lord asks, an annoyingly charming smile on his face, and pulls out the chair next to him. I bite my lip, closeness is not what I want in a conversation about me leaving.

"Fine." I try to force some brightness into my tone, and smile.

"My family is indebted to you Velena. If you hadn't been there...I dread to think."

"You would have done the same for me, and besides I'm not hurt." I say frankly. _Gods, I don't want to leave. _Luckily, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, Maester Luwin arrives. He is carrying a heavy leather bound book.

"The accounts my Lord." he explains and places the huge tome on the table. I pick up a knife and a red apple, evidently not grown in the north. I decide to wait until the Maester leaves but the accounts take a long time and then Theon joins us at the table. The latest arrival winks at me and nearly causes me to regurgitate my apple so I mutter an apology and stalk off to my room. On my walk back I wonder why I feel so all over the place. I recount the last few weeks and realize that it is about that time of the month again.

_"Shit." _I sigh indignantly.

xoxox

I decide to change my clothes when I have again bolted my door. Bettanie helps me lace the deep red dress up at the back and Lalis carefully packs up the clothes I discarded. I spend the rest of the morning penning a letter to Renly. When I decided to stay in the north Robb had given me the use of a solar one floor up from my room, so that is where I sit. Today I am mostly taking after Robert, I am definitely not in a good mood and drinking in the morning is one of my brother's favorite pass times. The solar has been made up for my use. Somewhere the servants managed to find a tapestry with the black stag of my house emblazoned on a yellow field which now hangs on a wall. It is not a crowned stag, so evidently it dates back to before Robert's Rebelion. I prefer the stag without it's crown, after all, I am primarily a Baratheon of Storm's End then a Baratheon of King's Landing. Two walls of the solar are connected to the rest of the castle but the last two are made up of ten long, arch-shaped windows. The glass alone must have cost a fortune. My solar at King's Landing is quite similar, around the same size but all the windows are just stone, artfully cut in complex patterns to allow sunlight into the room. There is a selection of comfortable seats in the room and a table in the middle on which a glass bottle and cups are placed. It is that strongwine that I'm currently drinking. This is where Robb finds me a few hours later.

"My mother requests your presence in the Godswood." my brow furrows.

"I thought Catelyn worshiped the Seven." I reply, standing up and brushing down my skirts.

"She does but I believe she wishes to talk about something quite serious." his face becomes more set and lined. I let out a breath to steady myself._  
_

"Robb, I have to talk to you about something too." I watch his eyes, they get a bit wider in surprise or maybe even fear. I urge myself on wards. "I have stayed here to help you, you and Catelyn and Rickon. But as I see it you are a very capable lord and Catelyn has finally come back to us so can look after Rickon." I argue my point politely and keep an even tone but I cant stop fidgeting.

"What?" he snaps as if he can't understand a word I'm saying.

"I have a family too, I can't abandon them!" I reply with equal ferocity.

"So you abandon us instead?" I snort derisively at his twisted logic.

The alcohol seems to have shortened my temper considerably so when I next open my mouth I find myself shouting.

"I'm not abandoning anybody, I stayed here to help and I have!" he walks over to me, a wild look in his bright blue eyes.

"If you want to leave, you know where the door is." he hisses in a voice as cold as the land that he rules. Somehow it is even worse than when he was shouting.

"Fine." I bring my face up to his in a move to intimidate him and then roughly push past the stubborn ass of a lord. "Enjoy your solar, _My Lord." _I shout over my shoulder and slam the door as loudly as I can. A moment later I hear the sound of a bottle hitting the door and smashing. I fume as I stomp down the stairs, it's a wonder that my head doesn't explode. My hands are balled up into fists. How can Robb make me out to be the bad guy? I stayed and helped him! I could have been on my way back to King's Landing with Arya, Sansa and Ned. I could have been sitting down to eat lunch with the more agreeable members of the Stark family right now. But no, I'm currently taking out my anger on these non-sentient grey stones beneath my feet. I stop a moment and take a deep breath. It is all so unfair. My eyes start to water at the cruelness of all of this. _No!_ I mentally reprimand myself, _I shall not cry because of that wretched Stark! _

xoxox

Ok! So what's your opinion on that then? I'm quite proud of the argument bit actually! I think it is pretty obvious who I ship with Velena now, but I have some surprises planned too. Thank you to everyone who followed (30), favorited (22) and viewed (3412)!

WaltzingMtilda: I'm so glad that you think that! And I will keep going as long as people keep reading.


	11. Chapter 11

Maester Cressin used to tell me that I had a peaceful soul and a caring heart but angry blood. I never really understood what he meant, well until today that is. I want peace, am driven by emotions no matter how much I try to make decisions with my mind and have Baratheon fury running in my veins like my brothers. Robert often says that I am the most like our mother in our family but, that in my looks I was mostly like the other Baratheons; all black hair, blue eyes and a strong jaw but I also inherited a short temper and the capacity to hold grudges for decades. Despite how infuriated Robb has made me I do hope that this will not end up being a long feud, gods know, I have such a small number of people that I trust I simply cannot afford to push those I have away. My head tells me to turn around and march back to Robb and ask for his forgiveness but my blood boils in my veins at the memory of Robb accusing me of abandoning his family. I can't decide if what he actually said is worse or the fact that it is him that said it. Robb's words stung me because I expected him to understand, at least to be rational in his argument and not so fiercely angry. Why did this get to me so much? I ponder. For years I have endured jibes from Littlefinger and comments about how I am still unmarried from Jaime Lannister and the constant arguments between Robert and...well...anyone brave enough to stand up to him really. So why does five minutes of Robb being unreasonable cause tears to well in my eyes and a hard lump to form in my throat?

Outside of the stuffy castle my problems seem to lessen, the cold light of day is the best thing for revealing the truth of matters. I mull over the situation as I step out into the courtyard. It is a clear, crisp day and like a fine wine it should be savoured. I breath in slowly and deeply, letting myself adjust to the cooler air for a moment and then press on. I tilt my head to let the weak sunlight illuminate my face and wrap the shawl around myself. I now know the route to the Godswood here better than I know how to get to the Godswood in King's Landing so I quickly make my way over to the meeting place, I can even pick out my footprints in the snow from a day or two ago.

There is a small group of people in the clearing; Maester Luwin, with his long chain looped around his neck, ser Rodrik, a forked beard adorning his chin as usual, Catelyn, who finally has a spark back in her eyes again after so long spent mourning, and Theon. What is he doing here? I demand and shoot Catelyn a wide eyed plea for answers. Surely it makes as little sense as sending an enemy your battle plans for a Greyjoy to be part of a secret meeting, Robb may believe that his father's ward is as good as his brother but I have my reservations. _Blood will out._ I think grimly and decide to ask Maester Luwin to keep an eye on him when I've left. I take my place next to Catelyn and the old Maester and wait. Catelyn looks a little concerned that her son has not accompanied me and clearly expected for Robb to be with me. She looks a unsure and inquires about the whereabouts of her son but I just shrug my shoulders and try to stop my inner anger from souring my expression. Eventually we hear footsteps and Robb arrives, he wears his serious expression like a mask, I'm grudgingly respecting the control he is showing. He looks a little like he is grinding his teeth but other than that the Stark is keeping his anger to himself quite well. However, the acute senses of a mother must have picked up on at least some of the emotions raging in both our heads. A smirk flits across Catelyn's face when she notices us avoiding each other's eyes.

With a small cough to clear her throat the purpose of this meeting is revealed to us:

"What I am about to tell you must remain between us. I don't think Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown." Catelyn explains, her words confirm my suspicion on what this meeting is about.

"The boy was always surefooted before." Maester Luwin points out.

"Someone tried to kill him twice, why? Why murder an innocent child? Unless he saw something he wasn't meant to see."

"Saw what My Lady?" Theon asks the question on everybody's minds.

"I don't know but I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown." they are my family by law and though I do not particularly like the twins Tyrion is not a bad person, but neither is he good.

"I do not doubt your judgement Catelyn, but I do not think that Tyrion would be able to do such a thing, and Cersei, she is cold but killing a child... That's not her." I reason, leaving out Jaime, the blonde knight is a somewhat hazy figure.

"Can I look at the dagger the killer used?" asks the Master at Arms, ser Rodrik.

"Of course. It is Valyrian steel and dragonbone, not to mention the engravings and gold." I describe it for everyone who hasn't seen it, ser Rodrik seems to agree with my assessment of the weapon and nods.

"It's too fine a weapon for such a man. Someone gave it to him." I had deduced that when I first saw it yesterday, it is that fact that makes me uneasy.

"But what fool would do that?" I ask, in my mind it is clear that the dagger was given to the assassin on purpose, to confuse us.

Robb is the next to speak, and when he does he displays a similar anger as he did a few minutes ago in the solar: "They come into our home and try to murder my brother. If it's war they want-"

"If it comes to that you know I'll stand behind you." Theon jumps in. They have the foolish tempers of young men, they are too quick to anger, and they do not know what damage simple words can do.

"What? Is there going to be a battle in the Godswood?" Maester Luwin chastises the young men. "Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet." I sense that the Maester has a similar feeling to me on that issue, there is not yet enough evidence to do anything. I can help more in King's Landing in that regard. "Lord Stark must be told of this."

"I don't trust a raven to carry these words." I'm just about to suggest myself for this task, after all it makes sense, when Robb cuts over me.

"I'll ride to King's Landing." I glare at him for what was admittedly an accident and grit my teeth, my fury has not diffused at all and I am still livid.

"No, there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go myself." Catelyn is a strong woman and I do not doubt her resolve.

"Mother you can't." Robb protests.

"I must." I've made up my mind now and step forward.

"Catelyn-" I start to stay but then, as if to spite me further Robb buts in again.

"Velena?" his anger towards me seems to have disappeared, and he looks at me almost pleadingly. I swallow, knowing what I have to do.

"I can ride with you my Lady." I say, forcing back the regret that has risen in me like bile. Robb looks at me, his light blue eyes fixed on mine. I look away, I can't stand it. Our argument feels like ancient history as I nervously glance at the young lord, who doesn't really look 'young' anymore, I realise.

"Very well, it will be good to have a companion." I'm snapped back to reality by Catelyn's words, and agree quickly.

"I'll send Hal with a squad of guardsmen to escort you both." I stare at the floor, trying to force back my emotions.

"Too large a party attracts unwanted attention. I don't want the Lannisters to know we're coming." Robb doesn't have anything to say and seems to be absorbed in studying a tree a few feet away from him.

"Let me accompany you at least. The Kingsroad can be a dangerous place for women." Once I would have laughed at that and pointed out that I was dangerous enough to keep myself safe but now I just stand there and let the comprehension wash over me.

"What about Bran and Rickon?" the Stark asks.

"I have prayed to the Seven for more than a month. Bran's life is in their hands now." Catelyn has finally let go, taken her emotions out of the equation, _I can learn so much from her._ I really do need to learn to think without letting my feelings get in the way, that's how I came to be in this mess in the first place.

xoxox

Slowly the small group disperses until it is just Catelyn, Robb and me. Catelyn gives me a thankful smile and a quick hug and departs. Then it is just Robb and me. There is a long pause and I take a tentative step closer.

"I'm sorry." we say together. He laughs and I see a small twinkle in his captivating eyes.

"I hope you didn't break anything expensive." I joke and gesture for us to walk towards the heart tree. He looks apologetic and starts to say something. "It was wrong of me to get so angry." I cut in.

"I think that we are both too hot headed and stubborn for our own good." he muses.

"Yes, but I didn't descend to throwing bottles around, did I?" my statement is dripping with sarcasm as I smirk and look competitively into his face. I am quite tall and Robb is only half a head taller than me but he uses his height to his advantage and seems to tower over me for a few seconds. I stand my ground and wait for him to say something.

"You make me so..." he trails off and continues walking.

"Angry?" I supply and smile, thinking about how we both inspire these emotions in each other.

"Sometimes." Robb is completely serious and he looks at the ground for a while and I sense that the simple word has more meaning than he is letting on. I shrug nonchalantly and rub my hands together for warmth. There is another long pause as we draw closer to the red and silver tree.

"You really mean to return to King's Landing, don't you?" his helpless tone touches a nerve and a darker expression flashes across my face.

"It is time for me to go Robb. You can look after Winterfell, I know it, your parents know it. Why don't you?" I ask.

"I know I am a good lord here but I need you." he replies, his eyes wide and sincere.

"Robb, don't be silly." I say and flap my hand in a dismissive motion. He precedes to pull off his gloves and gives them to me, despite my fervent assurances that I don't need them. This gentlemanly action just infuriates me further. "What do you think you're doing?" I demand as I push the gloves back to him and attempt to storm off.

"Velena! Wait!" he calls. I'm now heartily sick of any physical contact between us, it makes me feel on edge and gives me the shivers so when he puts his hand on my shoulder I feel like slapping him. "I need to know...Why do you want to leave?" the Lord of Winterfell again sounds like the boy I once knew and my face softens.

"I don't," I admit "but what reason do I have to stay?" I ask more quietly and turn away slightly, the intensity of those eyes is more than I can handle. He steps closer, like a wolf stalking its prey. I back away, a little intimidated by the fire in his eyes, until I'm pressed against the heart tree. I wonder what he is doing, he has lowered his face to mine and seems to be looking into my eyes then at my lips and then up again.

"You have me." he whispers, I gasp, I can feel his warm breath on my cheek. I put my hands on his chest in a move to push him away if necessary but nothing gives and I can feel his solid muscles beneath the leather jerkin. My brain does not have any idea what is happening, I can virtually hear it whiring. My body is also similarly tense and any tiny breeze causes a flutter of nerves. I am just about to demand, using many long words and titles, that he move out of my way but before I see it coming Robb has collided his lips with mine. I suddenly go to the opposite of a few seconds ago; instead of not being able to react and just thinking I react completely on instinct and throw caution to the wind. I kiss him back. His soft lips are a contrast to the light stubble on his chin, it tickles my cheeks gently and almost makes me laugh. He slips both arms around my waist and pulls me closer, his body is warm and strangely comforting. I twist my fingers through his red brown hair and deepen the kiss. These bottled up emotions have suddenly burst forth in an unstoppable wave of passion. I didn't know how much I needed this until it happened, the events of the last weeks suddenly make sense. All I know is this moment, no past, no future. Unfortunately we have to break off this outpouring of emotion because of our human need for air. I suck in a long breath and then laugh like the dizzy, elated woman I am. I gaze up into those icy eyes, now they seem warmer than a summer day.

"So will you stay?" of all the things he has to ask it is this that he chooses: The one question that I have no answer to.

I know that I should go. I want, more than anything else in the world, to stay.

xoxox

A/N: Finally! Yay, romance! Sorry that it has been such a long time but I experienced some technical difficulties (it turns out that dropping laptops on the floor can, in extreme circumstances, cause them to spontaneously combust.) so I couldn't update. I hope that you don't mind the cliffhanger, but hey I get to be a bit evil every so often!

Thanks to everyone who viewed (4218) followed (33) and favorited (26) and to one person who put this in their community! I really want to know what you think of this chapter so please please review!


	12. Chapter 12

The intensity of Robb's eyes is astounding as he looks at me, looks is not really a strong enough word to describe it. I can't say anything, my ability to speak has suddenly disappeared. Robb is still holding me in his strong arms, a little too tightly and it begins to get painful when I remain quiet. My mind finally catches up with with what has just happened and I stare at him, horror struck.

"Velena?" he demands, a hint of that anger we had been talking about present in his tone.

"Robb, I'm sorry. You know that I can't." I whisper. The silence is deafening and Robb doesn't seem to be able to look at me. He is taken aback by my answer and I am too. Robb's grip on me slackens a little and I succeed in pushing him away. I wrap my cloak around myself and cross my arms. I can't hold the tears in anymore so I just let them fall. "You have to understand, it is my duty, as it was your father's so it is mine." I begin with conviction plain in my tone but slowly it seeps away and ends with more of a question than an answer. _  
_

"Duty." he repeats. "Don't you just hate that word?" a bittersweet smile accompanies these words and Robb sinks to the floor where we sat weeks ago, when everything was simpler. Hesitantly I do the same and sit next to him. "I think that I always knew you would have to leave." I nod and find his hand with mine and clutch it like it is a lifeline. "Bran fell, Mother...well you know, Father left, Jon left, the girls left and now you're going too."

"I know." _What else can I say? _I scamper from thought to thought, eventually finding something that may improve his mood. "We still have the afternoon and the morning." I say and draw a small smile from my companion. "I think we should have a rematch." I stand up, bringing Robb with me.

"I'll win this time." Robb grins.

"Really?" I raise my eyebrows and place my hands on my hips.

"Yes, I know your tricks this time." I get even more incredulous and take a step forward.

"I grew up with three brothers; you haven't seen half of my tricks yet." our faces are inches apart and with a little mental reassurance I close the distance. It is a shorter kiss this time. We break apart and then go our separate ways, I run back to the castle for more suitable clothes and Robb goes in search of lunch for us both.

xoxox

I quickly change into my outfit from the first time we sparred and it has been washed since so there is no trace of the mud from where I fell over. I decide to air on the side of caution and put my sheathed dagger down the side of my boot. I run down the stairs, nearly crashing into a servant, and then attempt to walk serenely the rest of the way but when I see those auburn curls I can't help but sprint. I am so exited, it's like the world has been turned upside down, even the heavy grey clouds hanging in the sky and the light droplets of water falling do nothing to dampen my spirits. For the second time in my life I have something to live for, I'm not just living to ensure the survival of my family. My thoughts turn to the possibilities for the future. _Would we get married and live in Winterfell with the rest of the Starks? Would we live at court in King's Landing or would Robert give us a small castle and land to rule until Robb becomes lord of Winterfell? _Multitudes of questions race through my head with no answers being given at all.

When I find him Robb is alone in the armory and has a bundle of what I presume to be food on a table. We sit and eat for a while, it's a typical meal containing bread, meat, a watered down cup of summerwine each and two apples.

"When Joffrey is king, I don't know what is going to happen." I say conversationally.

"We will be in a lot of trouble, that's for sure." Robb responds. I take a bite of apple and then continue.

"I think that your father should have become king." I mutter and lean in close.

"No, the Starks aren't related closely enough to the Targaryens." I laugh and stand up.

"Do you think anyone remembers those blood ties now? Anyway that doesn't matter, what's done is done. Shall we?" My eyes scan the armory, all of the tourney swords seem quite heavy, none of them favor the faster type of fighting that I prefer. My attention is caught by a huge old morning star*, painted or _stained_ a blood red colour. I shudder at the thought of all those breastplates being caved in. I return to the search for a suitable sword, eventually I find a slightly more skinny blade with a deep fuller running down the middle, it is still heavy but is better than the sword I used last time and it has an elongated pommel which gives me room to hold it with both hands. Robb also finds a sword but it is heavier and slightly longer.

We walk out into the middle of the training ground. I smile and hold out my hand which Robb shakes. Immediately I am on guard. I hold my sword tightly and stand with my feet wide for stability. My muscles are tense and I am ready to spring to the side if necessary. I block out the world around me until it is just me and Robb. We start to circle, both catlike and graceful in our movements. This time I wait for Robb to attack, I know that he has a seamless defense and can see blows coming and block them, but when he gets angry the more primal side of him comes out and he relies on force to defeat his opponent instead of careful and quick fighting. I decide that I will do best if I use that to my advantage, I am not nearly as strong as him and I doubt that I have that much in the way of stamina, but I have one physical advantage: I'm quicker.

"Do you want me to start or will you, my Lord?" I sarcastically bow my head and Robb laughs.

"I would be honored to, my Lady." he returns.

As I knew he would, Robb quickly gets bored of our circling and gets closer, coming at me with a strong swing that would cut me in half from shoulder to hip if this was an actual fight. I dart to the side and meet his blade with my own causing a loud clang to reverberate around the training ground.

"The honor is all mine." I respond. Next he goes for my head, I duck, bringing my sword up above my head to again collide with his. I put all of my weight into a strike towards his middle and the force causes him to take a few steps back, this gives me the time I need to stand again and regain my balance.

"No, it is mine," Robb insists "who else can say that they fought the King's sister twice?" This time I choose a sideways stance and when Robb again attempts to hit me with the sword I block his blow and we wrestle to keep the tourney swords together.

"By the time I'm done with you-" I know that I can't keep this up much longer so pull my sword through the air and circle it back down towards his knees, I'm parried again. "You won't be able to say a damned thing." I continue. My next move mirrors one of his from the last time we sparred, I move like I am going to strike his upper arm but instead push my sword towards his left side which he left undefended. At the last moment he beats the blade away and continues the stroke which I now can't block so I sidestep and grasp my blade with more force. I hear the metal singing through the air and hope that I am out of it's way. I am lucky and get another chance to fight.

"I wouldn't be so sure." he counters. My limbs are heavy and my hands are red raw so I have to agree with his statement. I force a smile onto my face to disguise the pain and shrug my shoulders.

"I don't think either of us can be sure." I warn. Just as I finish the last syllable a lightning fast blow is brought across from my left. I jump back and nearly lose my balance. I have fought with a degree of honor and haven't achieved anything so now I decide to change my tactics. I let Robb tire himself out with a few blows that I just back away from. I lead Robb up to the stairs to the bridge and jump up onto the second step. I stay on the defensive and bat away the blow aimed at my lower leg. I start to formulate a plan and let my movements fall into a routine. Parry, slash, counter riposte, parry... When I have lulled Robb into a false sense of security I finally leap down from my vantage point. With as much speed as I can muster I bring my sword to his throat.

"Do you yield, my Lord?" I smirk. When Robb smirks too and looks down towards my stomach I know what has happened and surely enough there is Robb's sword, one edge pressed gently under my ribs. I grin and Robb laughs. We lower our swords simultaneously.

"This is ridiculous." Robb says, and I back away to the stairs and sit on the bottom one.

"I guess we're just not meant to fight against each other then." I reply.

"Apparently not." he agrees and sits next to me. "You know I think you would be a good strategist." I am quite surprised by this complement and look up at Robb.

"Why?"

"You understand your opponents and I assume that you had planned that move you did on the stairs?" I blush a little at this praise.

"Yes, I did plan that actually. My understanding of your fighting is that you have a a strong defense but when you get angry or frustrated you fight more instinctively, not with your head. I'm not saying that's a bad thing but it leaves you more open to attack." I advise.

"You think through every move you make and you fight using your mind, just as much as your sword. You would be better if you had a little more strength but that will come in time." I nod and lay my head on his shoulder.

"I'll miss you when I'm back in King's Landing." I whisper.

"I know." he replies.

"What? Won't you miss me too?" I question in mock indignation.

"You know I'll miss you, Velena." I smile.

"Hmm," I agree. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

xoxox

*A morning star is a spiked piece of metal on the end of a chain used to break through armor, just think about what the Witch King uses to fight Eowyn in the Return of the King.

I'm a little bit disappointed with the amount of reviews that I've been getting, I expected a lot more for the last chapter to be honest.

Thanks much to everyone who viewed (4813) followed (34) and favorited (29)!

jafcbutterfly: This fic is based more around the tv show but with elements of the books in it. In the show most of the younger characters were aged up by around three years as a rule. At the least I would say that Richard Madden _*swoon* _ looks 20, Velena is 22 so it isn't a massive age gap compared to some (SanSan shippers I'm talking to you.) I'm very pleased to hear that you like Robb/Velena, thanks so much for reviewing!


	13. Chapter 13

There they were, her mistress and her new love, the Stark pup. She watched them from a distance, concealed behind a cart of food that was waiting to be unloaded. Lady Baratheon had her head draped lazily over the Stark's shoulder and they were obviously talking about something, although Varys's little bird couldn't here anything from where she stood. A shiver ran up her body, the light dress cut in the southern fashion not ideal for the cold, she pulled the cloak about her and stomped her feet to get some warmth back into them. The other handmaiden to Velena believed that she was visiting Winter Town, _What a stupid girl, _she thought and a smirk curled her lips. Normally the young woman looked homely, the kind of woman you'd expect to be a wet nurse, but now, with that conceited, deceiving smile she looked evil, like a snake regarding a mouse. The couple that she was spying on got closer again, kissing or near enough and the Snake hissed with laughter. Velena had been making her work incredibly easy recently. Varys would certainly be interested to know this new development and along with what she'd gathered about Velena's plans to help Lord Eddard in King's Landing the Snake could be sure of some extra money for her work.

She turned away and tugged the hood over her hair, making sure to hide any trace of who she was. The ability to meld into any place or situation was one that the Spider had taught her many years ago. The Snake had been working in a brothel, just a poor orphan girl with no one to turn to, that was until the eunuch found her and took her into his service. She owed her life to him, all that she had become was because Varys had found her and lifted her up out of the sewer, and now look at where she was: Handmaiden to the most powerful woman in the Seven Kingdoms. That title was often disputed between her mistress and some of the other ladies, most would say that Cersei held sway over the king but they didn't know Robert. Cersei played with power whilst she was free, but the cage always closed about her. The Queen was no lioness, she was a pet bird; pretty but not good for much. Another was Olenna Redwyne of Highgarden, the scheming mother of Mace Tyrell. Even Tywin would have to admit that she was a worthy opponent but she was yet to have a key role to play, the future, however, was a different matter entirely, the Snake felt sure that the Queen of Thorns was waiting with her eyes fixed on the chess board. So finally there was Velena, a girl still if truth be told. The people adored her in general and since word had spread of her staying at Winterfell it had only increased. She was unmarried, though that looked to be changing soon, and as the sister of the King nobody could really refuse her. The Snake knew that Velena disliked the game but she also loved her family and would do anything to protect them, including lying, spying and killing. When the time came for a new balance of power in Westeros Velena would be as cut-throat and treacherous as the rest of them, the only difference was that the King truly trusted her, which could only be said for a handful of people in all the Seven Kingdoms. Bearing all that in mind it was clear why Varys wanted a pair of eyes on the Lady of Storm's End.

The Snake wound her way around the outhouses and servant's quarters, being careful to stay in the sanctuary that the shadows provided. She pulled the hood back down when she neared the castle and slipped a small smile onto her lips, after all, a sulking expression would only prompt more questions, she could lie of course but what was the point when she could just as easily avoid it? There were no other people on the staircase and she arrived quickly at Velena's room.

"Hello," came the girl's greeting, in response the Snake nodded and smiled. "how was Winter Town?" she stopped for a moment, head tilted at an angle.

"Informative." the Snake replied, and closed the door.

xoxox

So that one was my first non Velena POV chapter. I hope you liked it! I know that it is short but I have been updating quite a lot recently.

Thanks much to everyone who viewed (5561) followed (37) and favorited (29)!

anparker09: I'm afraid that she is definitely going back to King's Landing but don't despair! SPOILERS! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! She'll find her way back north and will most definitely kick some Lannister ass!


	14. Chapter 14

I lie in bed angrily awake. It is almost pitch black around me, except for the soft silver of the moon, peeking in through the window. It has been a long day: I woke early from that nightmare, sat with Grey Wind in the Godswood, I wrote to Renly, argued with Robb, kissed Robb, sparred with him and packed up my things. I'm so tired and tomorrow will be exhausting but sleep continues to evade me. It must be the early hours of the morning by now. I close my eyes again in a futile bid to make myself drift off. Finally I accept that I won't get much rest tonight and throw the covers off myself. I bring my knees up to my chest and hug myself. It hasn't fully sunk in that I'm leaving yet. I breathe deeply and stand. Taking care not to wake wolfie I walk to the door. The bolt slides across with a loud screech and I wince slightly at the noise.

I wander the silent castle, unaware of the passing of time or where exactly I am. I try to fix this place in my mind, that I may remember it forever. I think of the feast, of Arya's jokes, of the clear skies, even of the cold, _especially the cold. _

I cast a shadow on the granite of Winterfell's walls, it flickers and dances along beside me, growing weaker as I get further away from the torch. I wind my way up a staircase and along a corridor, past Rickon's room until I come to a stop next to a heavy oak door bound with iron hinges. It takes me a moment but then I remember who's room this is. Blushing and internally damning myself I knock on the door.

"Robb, it's me." I hiss.

"Uh...Velena?" he replies, sounding sleepy, as he is like to be at this time of night. I hear the sound of footsteps and the door opens.

"I can't sleep." I mutter and cross my arms defensively.

"Do you...Do you want to sleep here?" Robb asks tentatively, evidently also aware of the implications of such an offer. I consider for a few moments, I doubt that he would take advantage of me and I really want this. I nod and close the door behind me. I take a glance around the room, there is a shuttered window in the wall opposite and a wooden desk with a jug and bowl for washing. It is quite a bare room, I get the impression that Robb prefers to be outside in the clean northern air rather than cooped up in a castle, unfortunately it looks like that is what is going to happen now that he is Lord of Winterfell.

Robb wraps his muscled arms around me. I lay my head on his shoulder and breath in his comforting scent. He smells all male, musky with a hint of spice. I feel so safe. At length we break apart and and kiss, less passionately this time and with more desperation. He leads me to the bed and we lie down. He pulls me protectively to his chest. Robb is unusually warm, hot blooded, but it is a nice sort of heat. I sigh, knowing that I only get one night of this and entwine my fingers with his, the way lovers hold hands. I smile into the darkness and I close my eyes knowing that my sleep tonight will not be troubled by anything dark.

xoxox

I wake early, and while night still has it's grip on the world. Robb is still asleep, one arm is draped lazily over my side. For a moment I just lie there listening to his steady breaths. He looks younger in sleep, but for the light smattering stubble on his chin and cheeks. His auburn curls topple loosely onto the pillow and I find it dreadfully hard to wrench away my gaze. It is time to get up, Catelyn wants to leave at dawn and if she should call on me or even worse, if she comes in here to wake Robb, what would she think of me?

Hastily I push the furs off myself, stopping only to lightly kiss Robb on the lips. I steal one last look at him and go to the door. I press my ear to the wood, I can't hear any movement so I gingerly open the door and slink out into the corridor. I retrace my steps of the previous night and arrive back in my room.

I dress myself in a soft woolen tunic and my customary leather leggings. On top of that I wear a fur lined jacket, this time I do not have a sigil visible on my attire, I do not want to entice bandits or people who would seek to ransom me by making my identity obvious. I buckle my sword to my hip and tie my sheathed dagger to the belt too. Wolfie has woken by this point but still lies there regarding me with her dark eyes. I smile at her and she lifts her head.

"How do you get away with being so lazy all the time, Wolfie?"I ask and kneel down to scratch her behind the ears. "Well, it seems we have a choice to make," I continue, "am I going to take you with me or leave you here?" Wolfie just stays on her blanket. "Fair enough then." I decide and pausing to pick a plain unadorned cloak I head downstairs.

xoxox

It is time to be leaving now, Catelyn wants to be away before dawn breaks, but there is one person I have to say goodbye to before I go to the courtyard. I quietly enter the room and close the door. Shaggydog looks up when he notices movement. I kneel down next to the bed and slowly stretch out my hand and lay it on the boy's shoulder, Rickon wakes with a small shudder.

"Ena?" he asks and rubs his eyes.

"Yes, Rickon, it's me." I whisper.

"Why are you here, is it time for a story?" the youngest Stark's face lights up with hope and excitement.

"No, I'm afraid that it isn't time for a story." I reply with a wistful smile. "I'm leaving now."

"No, you're staying here." Rickon commands. I chuckle.

"I'm sorry that I have to leave you, I'll miss playing hide and seek and telling you stories." Rickon looks like he's about to cry, his face has gone all blotchy and red.

"Come on," I wrap him up in my arms "It's alright, I'll come back, I promise." I hold him until his breathing returns to normal and his little body no longer shakes with sobs. I let him go and press a kiss to his forehead.

"Oh, I nearly forgot." Out of my cloak I produce a little parcel, a scruffy pile of papers sewn into a rudimentary book. I hand it to him and ruffle his hair.

"What is it?" he asks, distracted from his sadness momentarily.

"It's the legends that Robert used to tell me and my brother, we wrote them down so that we could read them when he was away." I say, thinking about all those long hours without Robert, Renly and I must have known that he was in danger but we never worried that he wouldn't come back to us. Robert had been our terrifyingly big older brother who laughed louder than anyone else, who gave me my first practice sword, who was the living embodiment of a Storm King, we knew that he wouldn't die. I drag myself out of the past and look down at Rickon.

"'The Fall of Argilac' is in there somewhere;" I flick through the tatty pages, "_Aegon had landed and set up camp in the bay, not wanting to destroy the people he hoped to rule, Aegon decided to offer marriage instead of war to the Storm King, Argilac_." I pause and stand. "You'll have to ask Robb or Luwin to read you the rest." I turn around and walk to the door, looking back to wave goodbye.

xoxox

Today there is no pomp or ceremony, Robb, Theon and Maester Luwin are the only people here to wave us off. Catelyn, ser Rodrik and my ladies are already on their horses and it seems that I have kept them waiting. I decide to make the goodbyes quick.

"If you could have my possessions sent along I would be very grateful."

"Yes, of course my Lady." Maester Luwin replies in that careful tone of his. He clears his throat "Velena, I have no doubt that you will do your utmost to help Lord Stark wilst in the capital?" I nod, slightly confused as to why he asked me this.

"I believe that he is in greater danger than he knows." I stare at the old Maester, unnerved by this prediction.

Next I step to the side and come face to face with Theon. Grudgingly he bows and brushes his lips against my knuckles. I force a smile onto my lips and bow my head briefly.

Now I have to say goodbye to Robb.

"Thank you for extending your hospitality to me, Lord Stark." My voice and resolve shake as I utter these words.

"Have a safe journey." he replies, equally stiffly.

"Goodbye." I grit my teeth and turn to Storm Chaser. Then Grey Wind howls and shatters my resolve. I look back again. Before I can stop myself I've roughly tackled Robb and hugged him with all my strength.

"Write to me?" I half order half beg.

"I'll write." Robb assures me. I look at the largely empty courtyard and note how much lighter it is, we have to be going. I pull myself up into the saddle and look down at Robb. He looks grim and serious again as I ride away.

We ride in silence for a long time. I focus on the horizon to stop myself from crying.

xoxox

A/N: This chapter had to have a major overhaul, I basically re-wrote the whole thing and I'm still not happy with it, but I haven't updated in ages so I wanted to post it. I'm going to miss writing Rickon quite a bit :'( .

Please review and tell me that this chapter wan't so bad! Pretty please with cherries and sprinkles on top!

Thanks to everyone who viewed (7671) followed (39) and favorited (30)!

Elfsquire90: I'm so glad you like this story, and here's the upadate!


	15. Chapter 15

"White Harbor is the seat of the Manderlys." Catelyn informs me, I make an effort to look interested and turn to her. The hooves of the horses clatter against the cobbles of the wide streets and that, combined with the cries of seagulls, makes quite a racket.

"What's their sigil?" I ask lightly and reign in my excited horse, being in a city tends to agitate him.

"A Merman with a trident." she smiles, "I can tell that you don't really care, Velena." Catelyn reproves. I can smell the sea and of course the ripe smell of a city,but it is not nearly as bad as the stench of King's Landing.

"I always thought that I was good at lying." I mutter absentmindedly and keep my eyes busy with studying the cracked white paint on one of the buildings. Lalis and Bettanie are riding behind and ser Rodrik is in front, looking quite imposing.

"I have five children and at one point or another all of them have lied to me, you develop the ability to sense these things." I am about to reply when ser Rodrik turns in the saddle and proclaims:

"The harbor, My Lady." With a curt nod Catelyn falls behind to ride with my handmaidens. I stay in the saddle as we approach the tethered vessels, Rodrik dismounts and proceeds to find out where each ship is bound for.

"From here we sail to Braavos and then to wherever the wind and the tides take us." answers one captain, a Braavosi from his accent and the purple hue of his ship's painted hull.

"Could gold persuade the wind to take you to King's Landing?" I ask. With a smile the captain shakes his head.

"Speak with the Tyroshi."

"Thank you." I smile politely and nudge Storm Chaser along to where a man stands in front of a two masted galley, I know him to be a Tyroshi from his forked green beard. The Tyroshi love bright colours but love gold even more.

"Where are you heading, captain?" I enquire.

"I am Moreo Tumitis, captain of the _Storm Dancer_ and we are bound for King's Landing." replies the man with the unmistakable air of self importance.

"Well then, Moreo Tumitis, what is your fair for all of us?" I decide that I do not like this Moreo Tumitis, he seems like one of those men who thinks that it is a blessing to know him. He will no doubt charge us as much as he can.

"Four stags each, another four per horse." _When it comes to money of course he is to the point. _I think.

"We won't be taking four of the horses, just mine." I state.

"Four stags each." he repeats. I roll my eyes at Catelyn and a smile tugs at her lips. I don't want to create a scene, Gods know I want as little attention as possible, so I go along with his exorbitant prices.

"Very well." I take out a drawstring bag and toss it to him. "You'll find fifteen in there, I'll give you the rest when we dock at King's Landing."

"Thank you." he gleefully tucks the purse of silver into his pocket. I dismount, more violently than I would usually and lead my horse over to the other side of the quay.

"Rodrik, please go with Lalis to a market, sell the horses. Give them away if you have to." Catelyn mutters quietly. "We will get Storm Chaser onto the ship, we should be ready to depart in an hour or less and remember, when anyone is in earshot we all serve Lady Velena." It is wise of Catelyn to remind us of the plan, in the interest of keeping her identity secret, Lady Stark is pretending to be the mistress of my household and ser Rodrik is our guard.

xoxox

It is fast approaching the aforementioned hour when Lalis and ser Rodrik return.

"What took you so long?" I ask, keeping up my role as a haughty lady.

"Lalis here had to run off on an errand." answers the knight. I raise an eyebrow at my handmaiden.

"Food, my lady." she exclaims holding out a loaf of bread and a bottle of some sort of beverage.

"Come on then." I say, striding up the gangway and onto the deck.

All day a hard knot has been building up in my stomach and now that I'm finally here it is ten times worse. I can't help but wonder...Was this what it was like for my parents the day they died? Did my father confidently stand on the deck of the _Windproud_? Did my mother look towards Storm's End where her children waited for her in the moments before the ship was lost to the writhing waters of Shipbreaker Bay?

"Velena, are you alright?" Catelyn notices my glazed eyes and absent minded expression.

"What? Oh, yes I'm fine." I reply too quickly. Catelyn knows that I lied, she can see through the facade that I've been wearing for longer than I can remember.

My facade is one of strength, people see me as the King's sister, the brave orphan Velena. I am not strong. The bravery is only superficial. I pretend that I am brave, I lie to myself and paint over the cracks in my faith. Fear has always clawed at me, finding purchase and burrowing into my soul, growing inside me and expanding the cracks like a noxious weed in a wall.

I now see why I care so much for the Starks; they are what my family was once, or what my family could have been if given the time. They are whole, standing strong but ready to fall. I don't want Robb to mourn the loss of his parents. I don't want Sansa to remember the day her mother died, I don't want Arya to fear the loss of everyone else. Bran shouldn't wake up to a cold, empty room. Rickon shouldn't wonder what his father looks like, he should know. The difference between their family and mine is that nothing has happened yet, they can still be saved.

I realise that I've walked over to the side of the boat whilst I was deep in thought. Looking over the side, into my own mismatched eyes, I remember what I asked the Old Gods in Winterfell all those weeks ago.

_How can I help them?_

xoxox

It is dark now and everyone is sleeping except for Catelyn, me and ser Rodrik, the sea disagrees with him so the poor knight is on the deck feeling extremely sick. As per my rule, I have already drank my way through one bottle of strongwine that I found in the captain's cabin and have now started on the second. The captain's cabin is quite luxurious, satin pillows and shiny upholstered chairs litter the room, it has a large bed on one side and a daybed on the other. My favorite feature is the wine rack, the captain and I seem to share a similar taste in Dornish reds and the produce of the summer isles. Catelyn returns from checking on ser Rodrik after a few minutes and has a look of exasperation on her face when she catches sight of the two opened bottles on the table. She sits next to me and leans in close.

"Tell me what is wrong, Velena." Catelyn asks quietly. I take a long gulp of wine, nearly draining the goblet, to postpone the confrontation, and because I rarely get through conversations about my parents without alcohol.

"Can you believe, that through my twenty-two years I have never set foot on a ship before?" I say, my speech slurred slightly through tiredness and drink. "_Windproud."_ I roll the word over my tongue, testing it. "They were tempting fate with that name." a chilling laugh breaks out of me at this point. Catelyn just stares at me, confused, disgusted almost.

"Alright, that's enough." she grabs the bottle off me and sniffs the contents, "Strongwine?"

"Give it back!" I shout and stand up, arms flailing, trying to grab the bottle.

"Shhhh. Don't wake everyone up." Catelyn places the bottle on another table behind her, sadly out of my reach and with a traitorous look I sit down again.

"Cressin says that I can't remember, that I was too young to remember. But books don't hold the truth of everything." I say, fidgeting, and eyeing the bottle behind Catelyn.

"Can't remember what?"

"That storm, you know, when my parents died."

"Is that what this is about?" she points to the bottle and gestures towards me. Wide eyed I lean in close.

"I can remember, I can remember the sound of the waves breaking against the cliff, I can remember how loud the thunder was that night. I can remember how the lightning lit up the water and I could see through it like it was a sheet of glass. I remember everything."

"I'm so sorry." Catelyn holds my cold hands in hers, I take some comfort in this but the tears come anyway.

"My first memory is of the night they died. I don't know what they looked like. I can't remember them at all." Catelyn holds me until the sobs stop wracking my body.

xoxox

Hello everybody! I'm sorry that this story is such a downer at the moment, but on the plus side there isn't much depressing stuff for a while now.

Thank you to everyone who followed (42), favorited (31) and viewed (8341)!

This is quite off topic but oh well, I think this show deserves a mention. If you're not already **you have to watch the 100**! It's great, it's had lots of mixed reviews but I love it so you should give it a go. The 100 broadcasts on Monday nights at 9 in the UK on E4.

Go Flarke! (That will make sense if you watch the show.) I'd love to hear your thoughts on the 100! (yes that is me shamelessly begging for reviews.)


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: hello dear readers! I'm so so so so sorry that it took this long. I've been through some tough stuff recently, but you're not here for a sob story: Your here for an actual one, so here goes:

The Storm Dancer gently rocks as it is propelled through the water by the many ores-men working below decks, I come to slowly, every sound causing a throb of pain inside my head. For what must be the fifteenth time this year, I swear not to drink that much again (knowing deep down that I won't last longer than a month). I sit up in the bed and scan the room, vague memories from the night before come swimming back through the haze of alcohol. The boat is a hive of activity, men scrambling up and down the ladders and rushing about on deck preparing to dock. I sink back onto the soft bed and cover my head with a pillow, for now the world can wait. Catelyn apparently has different ideas and enters after a few minutes of bliss.

"Velena." my skull feels like it's going to explode. "It's time to get up, we're around an hour from King's Landing, says the captain."

"S-stop shouting." I say, my voice muffled by the cushion. Catelyn sighs and I feel the sharp 'clack' of footsteps receding. A moment later two more sets enter the room and the door closes.

"My lady, what do you want to wear today?" asks Lalis.

"Nothing fancy." I remove the cushion and see both my handmaidens stood at the end of the bed.

"Dress or-"

"Definitely not a dress." I snap irritably.

"Yes, my lady." answers Bettany meekly, I know that I shouldn't be like this to people, Bettany and Lalis didn't kill my parents or Jon Arryn, but all rationality has been washed away by last night's strongwine.

Bemused, I brush the sleep from my eyes and clamber out of bed. The few clothes that we did bring are all neatly folded and packed together in a large bag. Lalis is neatly placing all of the items that fit into the category of "not a dress" on the end of the bed. Conscious that I must look important and regal, I choose a long black jacket, embossed with a stag emblem and my most comfortable brown leggings. I wash myself with tepid water and a fragrant soap containing scents from the summer isles I presume. When I feel clean enough I change my smallclothes and get dressed.

The sun has risen in the sky and I can feel the heat even here below decks; Kings Landing is a filthy city, made worse by the brutal temperature. I want so badly to see Renly again, there is so much to say that could not be conversed in writing, but every second I spend in that place, no matter how sweet, has a bitter aftertaste. It was the seat of the Targaryens who were butchered by Lord Tywin's right hand men. It was where Jon succumbed to a fever and died. Now it is where my brother's small council rules from. I am not so deluded to believe that my brother actually rules anything, Renly and I sometimes call him King of the Whorehouse. I can count on one hand the times he has ever attended a council meeting. If I had any sense I would sail in the opposite direction, I would go back north or I would go to Storm's End. But where my family is concerned I don't have any sense. So here I am, sailing back to King's Landing.

Still a little dizzy I climb the stairs to the deck. The wind seems determined to get us to our destination and is pushing the ship forward with all its might. Through my hair, being whipped around by the wind, I can make out two figures on the prow. Ser Rodrik still hasn't gotten used to the sea yet and is bent double over the side of the boat. Catelyn seems to be consoling him, she is good at that.

xoxox

When we dock I can't help but feel relieved. _I made it!_ Circles in my mind. If I forget how my parents died, I think that sailing is a quite a good way to travel, it doesn't take nearly as long as riding and is probably cheaper too considering all the inns Robert stopped at.

My things are unloaded by some of the crew and placed on the quay. Finally the only thing left is Storm Chaser. The first mate scurries up a rope to order around the crew. An extra panel of the deck is removed and steps are put in its place so that there is more room. I can hear the sound of Storm Chaser panicking so before they do anything, I jump down the steps to calm my horse down. He whinnies as he sees me. I slowly take the bridle and slowly stroke his neck, I calmly breathe in and exhale, allowing him to smell me.

"You are by far the most unusual lady that I have ever met." I recognise the drawl of Moreo Tumitis.

"I didn't pay you for your observations, captain." I respond curty but coldly.

"You still owe me money, so I will make as many observations as I like: Not many ladies insist on keeping their own horses despite it being cheaper to buy a new one, not many ladies drain two bottles of Dornish strongwine in one evening, not many ladies choose to wear breeches as though they were a man." I smile at his words and he laughs.

"It's just the way I am." I say slowly, grudgingly warming to the Tyroshi.

"Indeed." He turns around and whistles, two boys, not much older than Bran, dash down the steps and one opens the gate. The other slowly leads Storm Chaser out of the rudimentary stables. The horse gets stronger as he sees daylight. I pat his shoulder to encourage him and he carefully clacks up the wooden stairs.

I take the reins from the boy and mutter a word of thanks before walking my horse along the deck and down the gangplank. The captain follows me, eager to claim the rest of his fee. When we are all safe on dry land again I take out the rest of the money I owe him and a little more, I did ransack his wine collection after all, and hand it to him. Moreo Tumitis smiles and bows. I take a moment to look around. It feels strange to be back here, like I've just woken up. Perhaps the north was a dream, a brief respite from the the power-plays of the capital and now, just like a dream, it is disappearing.

xoxox

We don't set off straight away and instead plan our route. It would be best for us to take one of the busier roads as the emptier ones are often haunted by thieves and cutthroats who would kill me for my boots. We manage to purchase two reasonably old mares from a man heading to the knacker's yard, they'd grown past their breeding years but seemed strong enough to get us to king's landing. For ser Rodrik and Bettanie, the only two of our group now without a mount, I buy a white horse and a brown yearling from a middle-aged man at the dockside market. We enter King's Landing tired but relieved that our journey will soon be at its end.

This calm feeling abruptly leaves us when a pair of Goldclcoaks swoop in on us the moment we pass the City wall.

"Welcome back to King's Landing Lady Baratheon, Lady Stark." Catelyn looks at me bewildered, clearly questioning me. I minutely shake my head, I definitely did not intend for this to happen.

"Would you mind following us?" This situation stinks of Littlefinger, Varis is not daring enough to be so blaze, he knows me too well, the Queen would never arrest me while my Brother lives, leaving only Littlefinger.

"I would, we haven't done anything wrong!" Exclaims Catelyn.

I trot forward, right next to one of the guards.

"Tell me exactly what you want with us, or I swear to the Old Gods and the New, you with find yourself in some serious trouble. I am the King's sister; one word is all it takes." I threaten, conscious of all the people who can clearly see Lady Baratheon being apprehended by two Goldcloaks.

I can only see the man's eyes, I can't tell if he is laughing or shitting himself. Nevertheless he rides forward and passes a scroll to Catelyn, completely ignoring me. I narrow my eyes and make a mental note, memorizing the horse he rides and all other outward appearances, I may not believe that all those below me in station are worthless but this Goldclcoak has shown a blatant lack of respect for me.

"What is that?" I ask, turning in my saddle.

"Gods be good, its Petyr!" She exclaims.

"You don't have to go to him, can't I-" with a quick word Catelyn cuts me off and despite my foreboding I listen to her.

"Please My Ladies." The other city watchman beckons to us. Catelyn shrugs and I roll my eyes, its hot and I'm tired. I just want to lie down, I want to feel cold again, I want to feel strong arms around me and kisses being pressed to my neck...

I reemerge from my daydream in time to whisper hurriedly to Bettany and Lalis:

"If I'm not back in my rooms by evening go directly to Renly or Lord Stark, tell them everything." Lalis looks at me with wide eyes and Bettany nods seriously before stirring her horse into action.

Catelyn and ser Rodrik are already following the Gold Cloaks down a sidestreet and I follow. Watching the red mud buildings and poorly constructed hovels crawl past I muse that this is not the way I thought I would reenter the city. I didn't expect a great fanfare, I didn't want people to recognise me too much, I just thought that, like the rest of our journey, it would go off without a hitch, I guess Littlefinger had different ideas. His men lead us deeper and deeper into the labyrinthine city, I'm starting to feel seriously disconcerted by my lack of knowledge of where we are when our guides dismount and open a small wooden door. Neither, me, ser Rodrik nor Lady Stark make any move to enter first so, as if to prove that it is safe, one of the men enters first. In silence we walk up a long flight of stairs. The cramped staircase opens up into a wider room decorated with dangling strings of beads and draped silks. When we head into the next room we finally catch a glimpse of the man who has lead us on this goose chase. He is reclining lazily on a long sofa with a whore on either side of him.

"Cat!" Littlefinger jumps up to greet her, his eyes sliding over me briefly, I know some jibe is coming and brace myself, sure enough I am welcomed with his favorite nickname for me: "and of course, the gallant Lord Baratheon." I smirk back at him, Robb doesn't mind me wearing trousers, so why should I care what the mocking bird thinks of me? Before I can mock him in return Catelyn has exploded.

"You little worm!" she bellows and hurls the scroll at him. I chuckle to myself, this should be funny to watch. The whores make their way past us, one swinging her hips around so much that she looks like she is waddling. Lord Baelish dodges the parchment missile and can do nothing more than stand there and take Catelyn's rant.

"You take me for some back-alley sally you can drag into a-" at this point another whore makes an appearance but is quickly dismissed.

"Catelyn, I'm sure the noble lord Baelish had nothing but honorable intentions, didn't you Petyr?" I say patronisingly. The sparkle of wit is back in his dark eyes as he turns to me.

"Believe it or not, but yes, my intentions were honorable." I snort with derision. "You wanted secrecy. Cat, I swear I was trying to help you. No one will look for you here. I am truly sorry about the locale." The day Littlefinger does something honorable will be the day the dragons return to the world and the dead live again, in short, never.

"How did you know that we were coming to King's Landing?" Catelyn asks. The spider is the only person who could possibly know, I feel an uneasy shiver run down my spine as I catch the almost unnoticeable scuff of slippers on stone.

"A dear friend told me." He answers gesturing to a doorway where the eunuch stands.

"Lady Stark."

"Lord Varys." Catelyn turns.

"And Lady Velena, I fear you have been missed my dear." I force my lips to smile politely, already knowing that the spider can sense my unease.

"It is a blessing to see you again after all these years." He directs this toward Catelyn. "I trust your journey was not too uncomfortable, especially for you my dear." the spider has a strange expression on his powdered face, the compassionate mask he wears so well.

"How did you know we were coming?" Catelyn repeats.

"Knowledge is my trade, My Lady. Did you bring the dagger with you, by any chance?" for explanation he continues: "My little birds are everywhere."

Lord Varys then looks at me deliberately. "Even in Winterfell." that is his way of saying that he knows exactly what has happened between me and Robb. My heart rate increases, _who will he tell?_

"They whisper to me, the strangest stories, about Godswoods and blunt swords, if you would believe it." My mucles tense and I again feel like running. "Did you bring the dagger with you by any chance?" Everyone turns to me but I barely notice and remember only after Baelish has cracked a smile. I nervously unbuckle the sheath from my belt and hold it out for Varys to take. The feel of his soft skin on mine, be it only for an instant, makes my skin crawl and I flinch away from him. The eunuch precedes to draw the dagger from its sheath, he stares at the rippled steel and with a reverent tone he mutters "Valyrian steel."

"Do you know whose dagger this is?" Catelyn asks, clearly weary of the loaded words and half answers.

"I must admit I do not." the Master of whispers admits, drawing a chuckle from our host.

"Well well, this is an historic day." he pronounces, well pleased by this small victory over his rival. "Something you don't know, that I do."

"Finally, I was worried that you were going to be showing off until midnight." I breathe, Catelyn doesn't even comprehend my sarcastic comment, she is so enthralled by his tale.

"I hear that patients is a much admired quality in a woman." Petyr quips, still with that arrogance marring his features. I have a reply ready in my mind but choose not to voice it, Littlefinger is going to tell us after all, one way or the other.

"There's only one dagger like this in all of the Seven Kingdoms." he draws the dagger from its sheath, weighs it in his hands and then throws it with a controlled, practiced ease. It whistles through the air and strikes the middle of a panelled door.

"It's mine." in spite of myself I gasp. Littlefinger laughs, that horrible, condescending laugh and walks to the door. All of us, Varys included, stare dumbly at the knife-throwing, rumor-mongering snake before us.

"At least it was, until the tournament on Prince Joffrey's last nameday. I bet on ser Jaime, as any sane man would. When the night of the flowers unseated him," with a quick pull the knife comes out of the door. "I lost this dagger."

"Get to the bloody point!" I yell itching to draw my own dagger and threaten the little man with it.

"To whom?" Catelyn again looks like the crazed woman brandishing a candlestick against a man who was trying to harm her son. she has traveled the length of the Seven Kingdoms for her family. We are both here for the same reason so when Littlefinger finally answers our question I'm utterly lost.

"Tyrion Lannister."

Her family may come at the expense of mine.

xoxox

I really hope that was worth waiting a month and a half for. (I feel so bad.) I'd love you to review, please point out any problems and I'll try to sort them out, as per usual thanks for reading and see you next time, which will be soon I promise.

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	17. Chapter 17

I am walking briskly through the throne room when I finally see Renly.

"Sister!" He shouts and runs towards me, expensive silks flying along after him. I don't have the energy to mirror him so instead I settle for a weak laugh and open my arms. We embrace and for a while he holds me at arm's length as if to examine me. Renly has always been more conscious of clothing than me and often "corrects" my outfits. Today though he merely remarks that "it's a little too masculine" and scornfully eyes the mud caked onto my boots. After a pause we fall into step next to each other.

"You look worn out and scruffy, not at all like a lady." He comments and slings an arm over my shoulders.

"You look rested and in perfect health, and very much like a lady." I judgmentally trail my eyes up and down.

Renly bows his head, seemingly resigned to being the butt of my jokes for the day and continues to swagger through the long hall.

I quickly scan the throne room, nothing has changed: the orange-red of the walls is the same, as is the Dornish influence of the columns that hold up the cavernous ceiling. Lastly, the throne sits upon its dais, the centre of attention as always. I find it hard to tear my eyes away from the writhing mass of steel.

"So, how are our northern friends?" He asks and jolts me from my brooding silence.

"Um...Lord Stark was almost exactly as I remembered him, a little more lined of course." We turn off the passageway and are greeted by a long staircase leading up to the higher levels of the Red Keep.

"Catelyn has barely aged a day. Robb, Sansa, Arya and Bran are all grown up, then of course there's little Rickon, he's lovely…" I carefully gloss over the events that transpired between me and Robb in the North, for one thing, Varys already knows and I'd rather not have the whole city whispering, and for a second, I simply don't feel its appropriate. I'm here to get to the bottom of what happened to Bran and council my brothers, not to dance and daydream like a child.

"I... I suppose you've heard what happened." I don't manage to meet my brother's eyes. Unbidden, flashes of the events that transpired rise to the surface; I witness the look of horror on Catelyn's face for the second time, I hear screams and dread pools in my stomach. To keep the memories at bay I start counting the stairs to make my mind busy.

By the time we reach the top of the stairs I'm at 23. From here we walk down a corridor and unlock a heavy oak door, from here on in its all our territory. We have a small entrance hall, it's more of a landing, with all of the other doors branching off. We have separate rooms, a solar, and a study that we share, then there are the rooms for our servants.

"Yes, Stark's boy fell. Bran was it?" I always tell Renly everything but out here, even in our wing of the keep, it is not safe to discuss these matters. There is common saying amongst those of the court: _Count how many ears you see, triple it and add a hundred, then you'll scratch the surface._

xoxox

A change of clothes and a glass of iced pomegranate juice later and we're sitting under the shade of the trees in the castle gardens, discussing all that has happened since we parted.

"Littlefinger expects us to believe that Tyrion wants the Stark boy dead, Catelyn is staying with him, despite me offering to accommodate her." I'm stung by Catelyn's lack of trust, choosing Littlefinger over me. Renly nods but keeps looking straight ahead across the sprawling mass that is Kings Landing, I can tell he is concerned by the way he is chewing on the inside of his cheek. I turn away from him and copy my brother's behavior. "If whoever it is tried once they will try again and now Robb's all alone. And-" I divulge my worries in a panicked rush.

"If it helps, I'd say you did the right thing." Renly interjects. I turn back to him, there is a small smile on his lips, he has always been good at understanding and being tender, as Robert never could.

"It helps a little." I smile. "So, what has happened here then?" I quickly change the subject and stand up. Some dust has accumulated on my skirt so I brush it off the light blue silk and start walking. The tall trees block out much of the light from the sun so it is relatively cool.

"Lysa has gone back to the Erie, of course she's taken Robert with her too. Honestly I'm relieved she's gone."

I tilt my head as if asking, even though I'm already having suspicions as to why Renly is happy to see her go, I'm trying to occupy my mind with thoughts of here, instead of memories of what I left in Winterfell.

"She smothers that boy, and she never trusted me, or any of us really."

"Hm." I agree. "I remember when Robert was a babe, she never let me hold him, and I'm sure she threw my present for his seventh name day in the fire." I recount.

"What did you give him?"

"Oh, just a toy sword, it was only wood but I had it made specially; it had his sigil engraved into the pommel." the boy hadn't been one for play fighting anyway and I would be lying if I said I liked him. It's amazing the difference between cousins, Bran and Robert, or Robin according to his mother, must be around the same age but you wouldn't guess it.

I ask Renly for more information and. he is happy to oblige, he likes the sound of his own voice.

"Nothing of importance has happened, Stannis has returned to his rock, thank the Gods, Lady Rossin's two daughters have arrived at court, Lady Stokeworth has decided to extend her time at court, at least another month, _Gods protect us..._that's everything of note." he finishes.

"The North has been _much_ more eventful." I think of the Godswood for a second and smile to myself. I quietly decide to tell Renly everything, just not now, its extremely nice having this secret, it feels like a warm glow inside me. We sit in silence for a while, staring out at the azure waters, sparkling below in the bay.

After a time Renly stands.

"Since you're back, I hope you will join me tomorrow in the Great Hall." I roll my eyes disparagingly and cross my arms.

"Why?" I ask, unimpressed.

"Sweet sister, I have missed you! Is it not my honour, nay, my duty to celebrate your return?" he says, overly sincerely.

"I hoped that you would have understood how much I detest these banquets by now." Renly cocks his head to one side and makes a mock sad face at me.

"Come on, Ena. I started planning this when you left and you don't have to stay the whole evening. And it's not a banquet, sweetling, it's a ball." I glare at him.

He looks at me, all imploring wide eyes. I roll my eyes again and punch his shoulder.

"Very well."

"Ah, you wounded me! Quick fetch Pycell, my arm is broken." he dramatically falls to the ground and clutches his arm.

"Get up craven!" I laugh, "or I _will_ break it next time."

"Craven! Really?" he demands from his spot on the floor. With reckless abandon I use my slipper to kick up some soil from between the paving stones and smear it over his pristine doublet. This time he cries out in genuine anger. Before he can stand I've hitched up my skirts and run away cackling.

xoxox

When I get back to the castle the servants have already cleared away most of the food, luckily I manage to intercept a platter of rye bread rolls and a tureen of vegetable soup. I hurriedly grab a bowl and spoon some out, being careful to avoid the chunks of onion. If I'm hungry enough I'll eat almost anything but never onion.

As I walk up to the tower of the hand I quickly wolf down the bread and soup, I surreptitiously look around and then place the empty bowl on a windowsill. It isn't a very interesting trip and I've made it hundreds of times beforehand. I climb the same stairs as I did when Jon lived there, the exact same view of the courtyard below can be seen through the arrow slit windows, the only difference is the guards that stand outside the door to the hall. They look all sullen and both faces are almost dripping with sweat, they don't seem to have adapted their armour for the warmer weather and are sweltering in the layers of dark boiled leather and plate.

I proceed despite the cool gazes of the guards and when one puts an arm out to stop me coming any closer I start to speak:

"I am Lady Baratheon, the Hand knows me."

"Do you have any weapons?" one asks looking me up and down.

"I'm the king's sister, I don't need any." I lie thinking about the dagger in my pocket. His mouth twitches, like he is going to object but then, with a snooty look from me, he knocks on the door and calls:

"Lady Baratheon, M'Lord."

It is very strange to be back here again. It feels the same but also different all at once. I don't let myself dwell on the past and instead step forwards into the wide room with it's high vaulted ceiling.

"Eddard." I see the northman dressed in his typical black leather, behind him is a table, positioned near the opening to the balcony with the girl's Septa standing up, evidently just risen from her meal.

"Good afternoon Septa, please do not leave your food on account of me." I remember my civilities this time as I am conscious of her opinion of me and how it could be improved. Graciously she bows and thanks me. The Hand gestures for me to sit also, so I pull up a chair and sit to his right.

"Where are your daughters?" I ask, noticing the abandoned plates on the table. Ned takes a moment to consider before answering.

"Arya and Sansa have gone to their rooms. Neither are happy since the troubles on the Kingsroad."

"Troubles?" I look up.

"Aye, Arya's wolf attacked the Prince. The Queen wanted revenge." Wide eyed and with a look of horror I stare at Ned and grab his forearm.

"She-she didn't have Nymeria killed did she?" I ask, startled.

"No." I let go and smile a little. I'm relieved that the wolf didn't come to any harm, after all, Nymeria was always good around me and Wolfie. She never hurt anyone at Winterfell.

"No." Eddard repeats a sad, melancholy look behind his eyes causing my stomach to plummet. "Nymeria was chased off my Arya and Jory before the Queen could get her. Lady, Sansa's direwolf, did not fare so well."

I look down at the marked, ink-splattered tabletop; my hands, clasped in my lap, tighten.

"I'm sorry." There is nothing more to be said.

"How is Robb?" Eddard asks, after the plates have been emptied and carried off by a servant girl.

"Very well." I focus on the wall and hope with my entire being that my cheeks haven't flushed. "You have taught him how to be a just lord." Slowly a real smile replaces the false, confident one. "He prefers not to have the responsibility. He definitely wouldn't agree, but he is suited to his task." Ned's eyes are twinkling, he is proud.

"Good, good." I hastily try to push the smile from my lips, just in case he is as observant as his wife.

"I haven't unpacked properly yet, I really should." I make my excuse and rise, "My brother's planned a ball too, bloody idiot." I sigh and Eddard laughs.

"If only more courtiers were like you my lady." I shake my head but smile. Its a shame that Sansa and Arya's first time in the capital has been soured in such a way, I think as I'm led back to the door.

"I wish there was something I could…" I trail off and my mouth opens. I've just had an idea:

"Lord Stark!"

xoxox

The way to the Great Hall is decorated with strings of flowers and candles, Sansa is almost giddy by the time we reach the ball. Around the outside of the hall there are lots of tables all piled high with pastries, cakes and sweetmeats of all kinds. Sansa is wearing a deep purple dress with wolves and fish around the high collar while I've opted for my usual stormy shades but this time I have chosen to wear a gold and sapphire necklace, the largest stone is about the size of the end of my thumb. It was Robert's gift to me when he returned from the Greyjoy rebellion, apparently it had been taken by one of Balon's captains and when Robert killed him he found the necklace and kept it for me. It's probably just one of his tales but that never stopped me from loving it. I have the front of my hair pulled back into a bun at the back of my head whilst Sansa has attempted a complicated plaited design, it is a little messier than the styles that the southern courtiers are sporting but still elegant.

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you what your father said about the wine." I smile.

"I'm not to have more than one cup." she replies seriously and looks at me as timid as if I were a dragon.

"Now stay close, I wouldn't want you to get lost in a sea of courtiers!" I see a hint of a smile and lead her over to the closest table. I try my best to move around covertly and be quiet, the last thing I want is to be cornered by old Lady Tanda and her dolt of a daughter or the countless other gaggles of ladies (not to say that the lords or sers are much better). Sansa has found a plate of lemon cakes and is tucking in whilst watching the dancing, it is a lively piece of music and the swirling movements of the dancers are transfixing the Stark.

Abruptly the music ceases and the couples dancing slowly come to a stop. My stomach lurches when I see Renly stood on the musicians' stand. He gestures to me and a path through the courtiers forms. I manage to pull a smile onto my face just in time and grab Sansa by the hand. We reach the stand and Renly starts talking again.

"I am very glad to announce that my sister, Lady Baratheon, has returned to us!" he shouts. "I shall keep this short, it leaves more time for dancing," I catch a 'here here!' from somewhere in the crowd.

"We're all very glad you're back, and of course we welcome Lady Sansa, Kings Landing is brighter thanks to your presence." Renly smiles dashingly and takes Sansa's hand, pressing a kiss to it. He turns to me winks, I know who he'd rather kiss. "And now it is time for a volta!" Renly downs what's left in his glass and pulls me down to the dance floor. Before I can insist that I have to stay with Sansa, Loras has come to her rescue and is gallantly introducing himself. Sansa clearly likes her new friend and has gone beet red.

Renly expertly guides me through the steps, his grace making up for my lack of knowledge. I keep trying to have a conversation with him but to no avail as the complicated dance involves several lifts and jumps. I trip over a few times but every time Renly is there to catch me and gloss over my ineptness with his suave competence.

All too soon the beat changes and I'm spun right into the path of Lord Rogers of Amberly. He is reasonably attractive with his brown hair cropped short and the broad shoulders of a fighter. We were betrothed for a time when I was seventeen though I never had the intention of marrying him. I used him, pretended to have feelings that I didn't, so that for once the droves of suitors would leave me alone. I was selfish and now I sincerely regret the pain that I caused him. Since I had the arrangement broken off we have remained close, he's now courting one of the Tyrell cousins.

I attempt to stay upright without the aid of my brother but the force from the last move keeps me traveling. Suddenly I'm falling.

Olivar grabs me before I hit the ground and gives me a moment to find my balance.

"Thank you, Ser." I exhale slowly and smile warmly. He still has the same light hazel eyes and crooked grin.

The dancers begin to send us annoyed looks for holding up the movement and in response Olivar seizes my hands and begins to dance, dragging me along beside him. I suppress my displeasure and do my best to dance to the slower music that is now playing. Its not too complicated, we move in circles palm against palm and swap partners every so often. In between the difficult bits we manage to talk a little.

"So how did you find the North then?" I frown for a few minutes as if thinking.

"Cold." I say, matter of factly.

"Oh, I wouldn't have guessed." he grins and passes me over to the eldest son of lord Brax.

"Lady Baratheon, I had not thought to see you here." he tells me pleasantly enough, however I misslike the way his eyes scour my skin amd the tight grip he has on my hand.

"Ah, I can never stay away from my brothers for too long." I reply truthfully.

He smirks, as if he has bested me and adds "You seem to be able to stay away from Stannis."

"Lord Stannis, you mean." I cut back. He returns to silence and I stiffly do my part of the dance. It feels like a long time but in reality after a few twists I'm back with Olivar.

"Are your efforts for lady Alinor, is it? Going well?" I ask conversationally before we swap partners again.

"Its Elinor, and yes, I've been in talks with her father." he's still smiling, but now it looks forced, icy almost.

"She's very beautiful," I console him, trying to make up for my mistakes from all those years ago. "She's the one with the bronze hair isn't she?" I try desperately to bring back the grin from before. "Clever as w-."

"Stop." Olivar hisses. I do as he commands and cease dancing as well as speaking. He surveys me, his hazel eyes doleful. Then he drops my hands and stalks off.

"Sorry!" I call after him. 'Sorry' is never really good enough. Sometimes the damage we do can't be undone with words.

The dancers are beginning to get disgruntled again by my lack of movement, so I inelegantly force my way through to the side.

"Don't mind him." comes a voice from a few feet away. A young woman, around my age but I'd hazard a guess that she is younger, is looking at me.

"Olivar has always been a mardy arse." I had been turning back to look at the dancers but at her use of "mardy arse" my head snaps around again. She is of medium height with long, bright, copper coloured hair. She turns to me and laughs at the bemused expression that she finds, it's a harsh sound but merry at the same time.

"I'm Daena Rossin, You do not remember me do you?" her face falls for a moment.

"Should I?" I ask and turn to pour myself a glass of red. I remember house Rossin of course, they are the lords of the Eastern Isle, an island off the coast of the Stormlands, but Daena is unknown to me. Her eyes widen and she takes a second to reconsider.

"After your parents...passed, my mother Vaella Rossin was your wet nurse. We lived with you, my mother and I until you were three years old." I'm taken aback by this revelation. She steps closer.

"I always wanted to meet you again. It's been so long." she adds in a softer tone. There is something unsettling about her face. It is hard to comprehend. She has smooth pale skin, arched eyebrows, a pointed nose and full lips.

"So you lived with me at Storm's End?" I screw up my face in confusion.

My earliest memory is the night my parents died, then I draw a blank for three years. The next thing I remember is being taken up to the top of the curtain wall of Storm's End by Robert, I was so small I only managed one flight of steps, then he had to carry me. I can't remember getting to the top, or what I saw, but I do remember being nestled in his strong arms and him telling me that we were home and that we didn't have to fear. I'm not sure what we feared but I'm sure he said it. I would have been around four at the time. So it is likely that Daena is telling the truth, I certainly don't have any memories that contradict what she is saying and there's something about her which makes me trust her.

"Yes, we did. Then my father became ill and we had to return home. He was only a knight and my grandparents had only one child so we lived on the Eastern Isle like my mother's forbears." She explains. "My mother had one more baby, my father did not live to see her birth, since then Lady Rossin hasn't left, so I'm not surprised that you don't remember us." Her jaw tightens as she recollects these sad memories. I feel like I should offer sympathy but I simply can't summon it at this moment. There is a long lull in the conversation, her eyes glaze over and she stares unseeingly at the twisting and twirling dancers.

"How do you know Olivar Rogers?" I inquire.

"Oh." She chuckles. "I visited the court briefly five years ago, Olivar was prancing around and I thought he deserved to be knocked down a peg." She smiles mischievously.

"That was you!" I explode. She nods.

"I pelted him with apples until he stopped." she has a victorious look on her face.

Basically, Olivar had become big headed since he won the joust between all the young members of the court and liked to promenade himself on the horse that he won from Cordwayner every morning. His one mistake was that he rode around in an orchard.

"You hid in a different tree each morning!" I finish pleased that the mystery has finally been solved.

"Unfortunately he caught me when I climbed down on the fifth morning. He pushed me into the fish pond for that!" She guffaws and I snort into my goblet, when Loras returns with Sansa and he gives me a strange look, as if I'm not setting her a good example. Loras bows curtly to Sansa and takes her hand, delicately kissing it.

"I hope to see you again Lady Sansa. Lady Baratheon." He again bows, but does not take my hand and then departs.

"Lady Velena! Isn't he gallant?" The blushing girl continues to stare after him, holding the hand that he kissed close to her heart. I shoot a look over at Daena, her eyes are sparkling with mirth.

"I told your father that I would have you back by midnight so I think that we should leave." Sansa's shoulders fall and I catch a quiet "oh." I turn around to say goodbye to Daena, she waves and turns away. I catch a glimpse of lilac iris and then she's disappeared into the churning ocean of courtiers.

xoxox

A/N: I'm so sorry for not updating in half a year. I'm absolutely terrible and you are all well within your rights to hate me!

Thanks to everyone who followed (52), favourited (44) and viewed (12,609)!

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	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 19.

I've settled back into my life at kings landing very well, I think as I absent-mindedly pick at the wood and leather chair in the council chamber, a little too well. Unfortunately this one has been a very boring meeting: One of the High Septon's minions turned up to protest the influx of new religions from Essos, a trader used his right to appeal to those in power to try and sell his wares and we have some more preparations to consider for Robert's tourney. I am not master of anything like my brothers or Baelish or Varys but after I met objections to my presence in the chamber Robert had me scribble down a document and affixed his seal. Now I sit here to represent the King's interests. I merely check the agenda and ask Robert for his views and expectations, these I relay to the council. Petyr likes pointing out that parchment would work just as well and would be twice as comely.

I sigh as the trader turns on his heels and walks out, nose in the air and wave a serving girl over to order a flagon of iced wine. Today I decide to defy convention and opt for a tart white wine from Lys instead of a red.

"I've half a mind to send for that silk merchant and have him whipped." Remarks Renly, who for once looks bedraggled, thanks to his ruffled hair and baggy, he must have been up late, _discussing the art of war with his squire_. "There should be a law against wasting our time."

"Ah yes, we all know how much time and pressure goes into planning dances." Littlefinger's tone reaches new levels of sarcasm and it is hard to keep from rolling my eyes, I would usually but as I have had to work hard to be recognized as a serious member of the council, I won't jeopardize that by indulging Littlefingers japes.

I sit through the planning, occasionally putting in a word, most often it's when Ned tries to make the events shorter or cheaper, which he does often and with stubbornness matched only by our King. Other than that I am entirely content to sip my chilled wine and daydream.

After we have seen the last appointment and they have been ushered out the Hand dismisses the small council. Renly tells me to go ahead whilst he talks to the Lord of Whispers so I leave and walk briskly into the throne room to catch up with Lord Stark.

He is tired and his face looks more lined than before, when we were in the North.

"How are you finding running Roberts kingdom so far?" I try to inject some lively enthusiasm into my voice as when he looks at me he still seems miserable.

He shrugs "I would not mind it so much if I could have the mercy of a long sleep. The heat...it disagrees with me." My mouth twists involuntarily. It sounds similar to what Jon used to say. He too had problems due to the relentless heat of this city despite it being his home for a score of years. Jon was pure Valeman. The heavy, hot air was not what he needed. I hope that now he is at peace, among his forbears in the crypts of the Erie, in the high clear air of the Vale. I note that the grief is not so sharp now. The pain of loss is still there, but duller. The knives still twist inside me but I can tell that I'm starting to heal.

"I'm sure you shall adjust, my L-" we both turn at Pycell's call.

"Lord Stark!" The old maester is shuffling along holding a tightly wound scrap of parchment in one wrinkly weathered hand.

"I meant to give it to you earlier." He says, and gives me suspicious look. "I'm so forgetful these days. A raven from Winterfell this morning." He explains, I don't mind the Maester, he is useful, he provides sweetsleep occasionally to help with my nightmares, but he never knows when to shut up.

He gives the scroll to Ned and waits expectantly, as if expecting thanks. When he does not get it he sniffs and makes his way back to his tower. Eddard is usually courteous to everyone, whether high or low born, but now he is far more interested in getting to the information held within the scroll. His eyes dart across the parchment and a smile quickly lights up his tired face.

"Is it Bran?" I ask, my heart thudding in my chest. He hands me the scrap. I recognize the grey seal and the neat but wide hand; its from Robb.

_Father, I hope this arrives promptly to set your mind at ease. Bran has woken from his sleep._

I look up and grin at Ned, but then hungrily return to the letter.

_He remembers nothing of what happened before the fall_ (fall looks strangely precise, as though lots of thought went into that one word.) _but does know who he is and who we are. Maester Luwin believes that he will never walk again, however Bran grows stronger every day._

_Please share these good tidings with my sisters and Lady Velena._

_Robb._

I feel like I should dance and sing. This is better news than I dared hope for, I thought that Bran was gone from his body, that he would never wake. Perhaps the Gods heard Catelyn's prayers.

But then I falter. I peer down at the seal. The edges of the wax look strange, like it has been melted twice. I return the parchment to Ned, he begins to reread the letter but turns when the perpetually smirking Petyr comes down the steps into the throne room.

"Good news?" He questions when he has reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Why do I have the impression that you already know?" I ask back and look away, my hands on my hips. He ignores me as he has for years

"Perhaps you would like to tell your wife." he ignores me as he has for years and talks to Ned. "Do you wish to see her?"

xoxox

Baelish leads us through tunnels in the belly of the Red Keep. Just before we enter the dark I seize a torch from the bracket. Rats scamper away from the flickering red gold light. Littlefinger looks like he knows the passages well enough to navigate them blind but for mine and lord Stark's piece of mind I keep the torch burning to send away the darkness.

Eventually the passage changes and it is more like a cave. After a few more minutes the torch becomes unnecessary, sunlight is illuminating the end of the passage and we can hear the waves splashing onto the cliffs. Abruptly the passage ends. Petyr throws out an arm to stop us walking off into empty air.

It is a stomach churning journey down the cliff side. Our path consists of handholds and ledges graven into the rock that would be deadly if I'd worn a skirt today. I repeatedly thank the gods that I was lazy and wore close fitting trousers instead of skirts. I'm shaking when we finally reach the ground and I stop for a moment before following Petyr to hold my knees and retch. Luckily nothing comes up but I do feel vile. I use the sleeve of my tunic to pat the cold sweat from my face then pull on a stony commanding expression. Stark doesn't seem too distressed but he does look out of breath and utterly confused, I guess that when Littlefinger promised to take him to Cat he expected to be lead down to an inn, not to be taken through tunnels and down a cliff face into the more shady side of the city.

"We'll see her in a few moments, she's just up here." By 'just up here' he means a sand coloured brothel at the end of the street were various whores are leaning out of the windows.

As we get closer and Ned realises that we are indeed heading for the whorehouse he gets subsequently confused then anxious and finally angry.

"I thought that she'd be safest in here, one of several such establishments I own." Eddard rounds on him, pushing him up against the wall of the brothel, his forearm pressed over the smaller man's windpipe.

"You're a funny man." Ned puts more pressure on Petyr's neck making him call out. The spiteful part of me would like to let this drag on a little but the other logical half knows that would cause a scene and no doubt attract the Queen's spies.

"No Eddard!" I intervene, grabbing his shoulders to try and pull him off Littlefinger. My attempts don't do much, unbalance him perhaps but no more.

"Ned." Catelyn must have been drawn to the window by her husband's less than quiet conversation. Lord Stark looks up sees Catelyn and promptly enters the brothel.

"Ah, the Starks, quick tempers, slow minds." Petyr looks sidelong at me and rubs his neck. I smirk back, for once feeling a little sorry for the man, a large red mark is slowly blossoming underneath his chin. Baelish steps aside and ushers me in.

The common room is dark and heavily perfumed, silks are draped from the high ceiling. There are daybeds, mountains of cushions and the odd chair, but even more numerous are the women, scantily clad and arrayed around the room. I keep my head down and walk as quickly as I can without tripping.

Relief washes over me when Littlefinger opens a door and I see straight away that there aren't any more whores lounging about the place.

Catelyn is waiting for us at the top of a short flight of stairs. She hugs Ned, then me and thanks Petyr who for oncedoes not smirk but smiles gently.

xoxox

"The mere suggestion that the Queen's brother tried to kill the boy would be considered treason." Littlefinger is on one side of his office and Eddard, Catelyn and me are on the other.

"It will," I confirm. " Cersei, not to mention Tywin, will never let a slight stand on her family. Neither have any love for the dwarf, but pride…"

"Of that they have too much." Finishes Baelish.

"We have proof." Catelyn looks slightly desperate.

"Yes, however not enough." I but in and send Catelyn an apologetic glance.

"We just have the dagger, Lord Tyrion will say that it was stolen from him. The only man who can say otherwise has no throat thanks to the wolf." I feel a little guilty, unfortunately I helped kill out primary witness. "And Lady Velena, of course." He adds and I sullenly stare at the table.

Cat turns from her old friend and stands close to her husband.

"Petyr has promised to help us find the truth. He's like a little brother to me, Ned. He would never betray my trust." I remember Catelyn telling me that Petyr had been a ward of her father's, he may be a little brother to her, but it is not the same for him.

"I'll try to keep you alive for her sake, a fool's task admittedly but I've never been able to refuse your wife anything."

"I won't forget this. You're a true friend."

"Don't tell anyone I have a reputation to maintain." I used to think Petyr was a conniving scoundrel although he did genuinely help Catelyn and must love her, I can see it in his grey-green eyes. Perhaps the Mockingbird can be trusted.

xoxox

Later, after the sun has sunk below the horizon and I'm back in my bedroom, I conduct an experiment. I hold a stick of black wax over the candle on my desk. I turn it to stop the molten liquid on the end from dropping off onto the flame. When I have enough melted I hold it over a folded piece of parchment so that it drips over. Then I impress my seal, the stag of Baratheon. My brother's royal seal is a stag with a crown around its neck. Renly's is the same as mine but in gold wax.

I wait for it to dry and find a knife. This I also put in the flame, it gets a little blackened and smoke-stained but the important thing is that it is hot.

Carefully I slide the knife under the seal to melt the bottom and the top fold of parchment comes cleanly away. I put the letter from Robb down on the table and compare the markings to those on my trial letter. They are exactly the same.

So there is a spy who has followed me and someone is reading the letters as well.

My stomach plummets and I find myself scanning my room, half expecting to see someone peering back at me out of the darkness.

xoxox

A/N: I'm sad to say that this will be the last update for a while. I am sitting my exams this summer and I really have to prioritise them right now. I may be able to write a bit as English Language revision if I'm sneaky :D but it'll definitely be a while, I have a lot of stuff to learn between now and June...oh god!...kill me now...

Thanks to everyone who viewed (14,197) followed (57) and favorited (49)!

It would mean the world to me if you reviewed!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Again I dream of a never ending corridor, the screech of a weapon being drawn and the sweetly painful kiss of steel on my flesh. I wake panting and sticky with sweat. Just as I did last time I go to the window and lean out hoping for a breeze to sweep over me. It is a still night and only a small amount of the eastern sky is anything other than black, so I come away from the window after a few moments.

I sit on my bed, in the tangle of sheets and wait for my breathing to slow. Sleep extends its arms to pull me under. fearfully I jump up. Another dream like the last one would be horrific. I'd rather be tired the whole next day than re-live the nightmare for the third time. In my bedside cabinet I keep a small jar of sweetsleep, if I need dreamless sleep I sprinkle a pinch into my wine. It is powerful stuff so I have to be careful, using it too often can be deadly.

I find a mug, it's cheap earthenware but will serve so I grab it and the decanter. The deep red flows into the cup and I take a sip. It's full bodied and sharp, good, I think, it will mask the overpowering sweetness of Maester Pycell's medicine.

After I've added a pinch of the powder and swirled the mug I down the mixture in one long gulp and quickly fall back to sleep.

xoxox

"My Lady!"

"Velena...Wake up!"

"Fetch the Maester! Gods, just go Megga!"

I'm woken by a ruckus of voices and slapping noises. I blearily open my eyes when I feel the stinging on my cheeks.

"Ena, you fool. You damned fool." I recognize this voice and the arms which pull me up off the bed.

"Lalis, go grab Megga before she wakes the whole keep." That one is familiar too, it belongs to a blonde woman, I can picture her face but her name is currently hidden from me.

I shift my thoughts back to the man who is holding me, for half a second I'm overjoyed, it must be Robb, I tell myself. It is not. This one smells different, he's not as warm either. I put effort into focusing my eyes. When my vision has finally cleared I see that it is Renly.

"Who are you calling fool?" I ask indignantly.

The people around my bed laugh, I sense that they are relieved.

"You scared us all, you wouldn't wake. We saw the sweetsleep and thought..." He swallows and can't meet my gaze. It takes me a moment to grasp what my brother is thinking.

"You thought I would abandon you like that?" I push myself out of his arms and scramble backwards on my bed.

"No but-" he squirms.

"But what?" Bettanie, Lalis and Megga (who have just returned) are all staring.

"Hey! Give that back!" I shout when I notice Lalis holding the jar. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not a child. I don't need protecting." Lalis's eyes are her hand is balled around the glass.

Under my cold steely gaze the girl walks forward and presses the jar into my hand.

"_Thank you." _I snarl. "All it was was a nightmare, I wanted dreamless sleep so please be calm." I violently stand and gesture for my brother to leave. When he doesn't I scowl.

"Do you want to see me change or are you just a lackwit?" In similar fashion he screws up his face and marches out. I turn away but know he's left when my door slams.

"Right, I need my calf skin leggings, my dark brown leather jacket and a soft tunic."

"What colour should the tunic be, my Lady?" Asks Lalis tentatively.

"I honestly do not give a fuck, Lalis."

I dismiss my servants after they have laid my garments on the bed for me. I lean over the wash basin, tired enough to cry but too angry to let myself. I see the reflection staring back at me, the mismatched eyes, the tangle of coal black hair and indelicate jaw. In that moment I hate it. I send my right hand into the water and the mirror is shattered into a million tiny, wet shards. I grab a cloth and begin to scour my skin, when I'm done I throw that into the bowl. Instead of brushing my hair I run my hands through it to make it look a little better and braid it down my back. Then I leave.

xoxox

It takes me some time to track down ser Raymund, the captain of mine and Renly's household guard. He is sitting at a bench in one of the Red Keep's lesser halls eating a breakfast of bacon and black bread. It takes some time but he agrees to come and spar with me. Raymund is a middle-aged man with greying hair and a noticeable beer gut, but he is also fiercely loyal and strong. He always carries his bastard sword which he calls Liz in memory of his wife who was killed by Targaryen loyalists. He is a droll man but also very morose when in his cups.

First we go to the armory so that he can collect his plate and mail, I send two errand boys to get mine from my rooms. With the help of the apprentice castilian I shrug on my leaf mail, breastplate, greaves and all the rest. I choose to wear all my armor to build up my strength and because in a real battle I won't just be practicing with my opponents, I'll be trying to kill them.

When I've put everything on I feel like I must be sinking into the ground, it takes lots of effort merely to lift my arm.

But then the contest begins. I have no room for discomfort or tiredness; All I know is the man in front of me.

I pull down my visor and raise my sword.

I move first, stepping forward and left, bringing my blade to meet his. Next he thrusts towards my middle, I bat it away with ease and use his shifted centre of gravity to pull him forward, holding him by his gorget. He comes forward but doesn't fall. I grit my teeth and head towards him again, on the attack. I swing right, steel singing through the hot King's Landing air. He checks the blow and pushes it back leaving me open for a second. It would be sensible to retreat for a moment, all sense is long gone though so I don't. I lean into another swing.

Raymund is now on the back foot. I'm pushing him further and further back with savage hack after savage hack. I beat my steel against his with a ferocity I didn't know I possessed. I rain down strokes on him, blind and deaf to everything else going on around me.

Then someone has grabbed my sword-arm.

"Velena! Stop!" The voice is gruff but kind. It is Robert. I shudder out of my numbness, it is as though I am waking up. All strength goes out of my body and I sink slowly to the floor, my armour clanking disharmoniously as it is scrapes against itself. It is then that I begin to cry, quiet at first, but slowly growing louder.

"Out! Leave us!" My brother bellows, without hesitation they all obey, including my ever faithful Raymund.

With delicacy, not expected from a powerful warrior such as the king, Robert begins to take the armour off me. First goes the helmet, later the gloves, then the vambraces. When he has removed all the metal he pulls me to my feet.

"My dear Velena, this is not the life I wanted for you. Please, tell me what is wrong." My shoulders shake with sobs. "Do you want to return to the North? To the Stormlands?" I shake my head. I would certainly like to see Robb again, but how can I return when there is a valyrian steel dagger and a murderer at court to worry about?

"You know what I want, brother." I dash furiously at my tears. "I want Father and Mother back, I want to feel safe." Robert hides his face at this, because of sadness maybe, yet when he turns back it is guilt I see instead. After a moment he composes himself.

"I...I should te-" then my brother shakes his head. "Another time perhaps. Let us think instead of the tourney." And the image I have of my brother in my head, of the powerfully built, indomitable Stormlord is gone, instead I again see him for what he is- a broken man, a fat man, a man who has forgotten that courage is not merely a lack of fear.

The king leads me back to the Red Keep and presses a kiss to my forehead when he leaves me with my handmaidens. He mutters something about going down to the tourney grounds to check on preparations and leaves. It is plain to me that he is too cowardly to deal with a crying woman.

I go back to bed, not troubling to change clothes. I do not sleep, not until it is very late and the sun is setting. The dying light makes my room appear red. A bird darts past my open window. The silk curtains flutter in the breeze, I close my eyes as the wind rushes over me, waiting for sleep.

AN: I'm terrible I know! It's been over a year but I am hoping to get back into writing this so here you go.

This chapter is depressing but it had to be, there was one important thing I needed to show, and hopefully I did, it just had to be in a bit of a sad context. Anyway, on to reviews:

BlueGreen: Sorry it had to be such a long wait!

Marvelmyra: That is true, but tbh I love reassurance. I'm glad you like the story though!

ZabuzasGirl: Hopefully this is quick enough for you!

Thank you all so much for sticking with me despite the long wait!


	20. Chapter 20

Every day Lalis or Bettany leaves three trays of food in my room and takes out the ones from the day before. This day is no different, though Bettany does extra begging, apparently Robert is asking for my presence at the tourney. As for my other brother, he does not visit or enquire after me. I do not blame him, I would give myself a wide berth too, if I could. The bad mood refuses to go away, instead hanging ominously above me, like a dark cloud. I hear chatter outside my door of a knight dying in the joust, I do not care, but think idly about how it could have happened. In the end I decide that he was likely crushed by his horse, then go on to think about something else, equally unimportant.

The next day I get an invitation from my eldest brother, requesting me to watch him fight in the melee. I read it quickly and throw the letter in the fire with a cackle, imagining my humongous brother careening around a field, flailing his war hammer. All too soon the humour is gone and I collapse back onto the bed.

That evening I catch bits of a discussion between my brother and Ser Loras, they evidently have the window open. I decide, after a few minutes that I would be better closing mine as I do not need to hear what they get up to at nighttime. I am accompanied by a glass pitcher of arbour gold but I can't help but be jealous of my brother, in the arms of someone he loves.

In the morning Lalis arrives with another tray, the crumpets do look good so I have a sniff around the platter. I nibble on one of them and amuse myself by throwing an emptied pitcher of wine out of my window and listening for a smash as it hits the rocks below. The tray also bears a letter. It is sealed with a direwolf and is written in a neat, swirling hand. It is from Sansa, she enquires after my health and wonders if I would like to visit her and Arya in the tower of the hand. I crumple up the letter but do not throw it in the fire.

Finally I leave my room. I call Bettany and Lalis and instruct them to bring me hot water for a bath. When they have I send them away and strip naked. I climb in, the water scorching my skin. For a while I soak but then start to wash myself. The grime from my apathy is leaving my body, it feels good.

When I am dry I dress myself and brush out my hair. I wear a simple flowing dress and return to the comforting colours of my house, a deep gold, bordered with black. "_Ours is the Fury"_ I remind myself as I head out of the safety of my room.

Xoxox

"Velena!" Arya tackles me the moment I'm through the door. Sansa, in complete contrast, stands demurely by the table, her hair twisted into an elaborate design on top of her head.

"We have missed you, My Lady." the older girl states, walking forwards, hands clasped neatly behind her back.

"Did you hear that Father got me a dancing master?" My brow wrinkles, the Arya from before hates dancing and yet this one seems over the moon that she must learn to dance.

"He isn't a real dancing master. Ladies don't dance with swords." Sansa corrects her sister.

"Yes they do. Water dancing is a dance!" the younger sister balls up her fists.

"Maybe for little urchins like you!" Arya's face begins to redden so I think I must step in now, before the hair-pulling and food throwing starts.

"Why don't we sit down?" I ask, looking pointedly at each of the girls in turn.

I wave a serving woman over and ask for some food.

"Velena," Arya tilts her head and smiles mischievously, "where were you? Were you having an adventure?" At first I exhale and shiver in a moment of nervousness, but then I realise I have started to smile. Arya has been imagining me riding off on Stormchaser, fighting outlaws in the Kingswood, no doubt. Sansa rolls her eyes.

"No, no, I was ill, I'm afraid." I try to give a comforting smile but my chin wobbles. Sansa's eyes widen and she quickly finds something else to talk about:

"My Lady, your dress is lovely. The black lace is Myrish, is it not?" I smile for real this time.

"It could be, I would not know, my dear." It is then that the serving woman returns, I am heartily glad. I take the dish of cashews and nibble away, in between chatting to the Stark girls.

I have finished them and most of a plate of lemon cakes (Sansa helped me) and am just about to dig into a mound of raspberries when the door opens and Eddard enters. He smiles at his daughters but it does not quite reach his eyes, instead they are dark. He is worried I realize.

"Sansa, Arya, go to your rooms." he sends them away, not rudely but without any flexibility in his tone.

"But I wasn't doing anything wrong Father." Arya moans. Eddard huffs out a breath and and fixes his grey eyes harshly on his youngest daughter. She scampers away after that, Sansa follows, but not before bobbing down in a curtsey for me.

Lord Stark surveys the room and when he sees the serving woman be turns to me, "Come, My Lady." I follow him to the solar, where he bolts the door.

"My Lord, what is this about?" I ask as he takes a seat.

"Lady Velena, I would ask first that you do not speak of this to anyone." he says slowly but with fervor.

"Well, that would depend on what it is you propose to tell me." I reply, my forehead crumpling with concern. "However much I care for your family, my first loyalty is always to my brother." Eddard nods at this, he expected nothing less I suspect.

"Aye, very well. Catelyn has travelled up the Kingsroad, she met the imp-"

"His name is Tyrion Lannister, My Lord, I thought you would remember." I cut in, a slight edge slipping into my tone. Ned now looks as though he is reconsidering.

"Lord Tyrion, he has been taken prisoner, and is being taken to the Eyrie for trial." My eyes widen, my lips press together and my nostrils flare. I stand up, hands balled up into fists. I slam them down onto the table, Eddard genuinely looks surprised.

"Tell me, Lord Stark, do you northerners have nothing but ice between your ears? Is everyone above the God's Eye dropped on their heads as a baby? Or is that just the Starks and the Tullys?" I hiss, my voice getting gradually louder and louder until I'm almost shouting.

"Velena, be quiet." The Warden of the North orders, but we are not in the North and I am a blood royal, he can't do anything to me.

"I will not be quiet. Your wife has seized a man, my friend and brother to the queen who is more than likely innocent. She has provoked the proudest house in Westeros and, I hasten to remind you, the house with the largest army." Under my fury, the powerful lord shrinks, until he is forced to cover his face with his hands. I do not care if he feels bad at this moment, there are more important issues.

"If you will excuse me, I am going to find my brother, the King, and sort out this mess your wife has made."

AN: Two updates in one day!

I'd like to take a moment to explain Velena's behaviour in the last two chapters. She obviously isn't a very happy person due to her troubled past but there's more than that. I imagine her as bipolar, that is to say, sometimes she is utterly without motivation and is very upset or numb and other times she is manic, and can switch between the two almost without warning. I thought some explanation was warranted, otherwise these two chapters could be very confusing.

I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter! Please review!


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